Mission Impossible
by Lady Luce
Summary: Dante's always thought that hunting demons was a tough job, but now he's faced with something far worse, raising his children. And when the demon world finds out about another generation of Sparda blood things begin to get a whole lot worse.
1. Chapter I

**-Mission Impossible-**

-Lady Luce-

_Disclaimer: I don't own DMC, if I did there'd be a Dante-Must-Strip mode :P_

_A/N: Okay here's my first attempt at a proper DMC fic. I've got a bit of an idea of where it's going, but I'm not too sure how I feel about it as it is. I normally spend ages worrying over things though so instead I decided that I'd just post it and be done with it. But as I said, not completely happy with it. Oh and yes this is DantexTrish, but it won't be centering on their relationship or anything. I picked DantexTrish because that's my favorite DMC pairing and I didn't want to make up a character (I can't see Lady being a kid person either). Yes, so please don't let that put you off though this chapter is mostly Dante and Trish orientated. And anyone who wants to tell me that Dante/Trish is icky etc. I have one hell of a good argument for you. Okay I'll shut up now._

* * *

Chapter I

"I hate this, it's not fair! I hate this house!"

The voice could be heard echoing from the room above, the argument had been going on for hours and as much as she hated it she really didn't want to intervene. This had nothing to do with her and she intended to let them work it out for themselves.

"And most importantly I hate _you!_"

The shout was accentuated by the slamming of a door which seemed to shake the whole house. Ouch.

There was silence for a second or two and then heavy foot-steps on the stairs. Trish had just enough time to remove the magazine from her lap before Dante rolled over the back of the sofa his head landing where the magazine had been moments before. If she had been human this habit of his might have been uncomfortable, it was a little annoying when she was trying to read, but she learned to anticipate when he was about to do it.

"Why did I let you do this to me?" He asked massaging his temples with his fingers.

She studied his upside down face quizzically. "Let me do what?"

"Them… kids… why?" Came the unintelligible answer. He didn't really need to explain it again; they had this conversation at least once a month after one of his arguments with their son. Normally over the same thing and it _always_ ended in the same way. She'd always thought that Dante would get on great with kids – he was a child at heart after all – and he had, until they grew up a bit. As children they'd followed him and his word with perfect confidence in what he said. It had annoyed her once when she'd have to ask them to do things a million times and they'd respond to him in the first instant when he merely hinted that their rooms were too messy.

Now though Dante was beginning to understand the trials of parent-hood, especially with Alexander. Their son had recently broken into the stage of child-hood where he would rebel against any form of authority and Trish could tell that the mutiny had stung Dante more than he liked to let on. Dante had also been far more protective of his children than she'd ever imagined. It had been impossible to keep their lives completely normal, but they'd done their best to detach anything demonic from the kids and keep their two worlds separate for the time being. And this was where the problems had started. Alexander _knew_ they were hiding something from them, she had no doubt that he'd make an excellent detective in the future, but every time he asked his father something about his job or parents (or Trish's parents too for that matter) Dante point blank refused to tell him anything. It was all for the boy's safety of course, but Alexander didn't see it that way and both father and son were incredibly alike when it came to stubbornness.

"They're not that bad are they?" She asked knowing the response and also knowing that it didn't matter if she'd heard it all before. Sometimes he just needed to vent his anger and she was perfectly happy to listen – whilst glancing over to her magazine occasionally of course.

"Not that bad?" He asked rhetorically. "They're a bloody nightmare. Demons, fine I can handle them," he sighed running a hand through the snow-drift of hair, "is it too late to put them up for adoption?"

She shoved him lightly, good-humouredly but there was a hint of warning behind it. "For your sake you'd better be joking."

"Of course I am angel you know that right?"

Angel; the nickname had been derived late one night and it had stuck. He'd called her it as a mockery when she had been lamenting her demonic blood; Trish had laughed at how unlike him it was to say anything nearly poetic. He had really grown up in the past years, or at least he'd mellowed out a bit, though he still had an unhealthy obsession with pizza.

"I know, but sometimes I wonder." Trish replied. She smiled sweetly and ran a delicate hand through his hair massaging his scalp gently. He purred and stretched like a cat relaxing against her and thoroughly enjoying the treatment. Trish could tell that he was stressed and she also knew that he was exhausted. Between demons and his children Dante hadn't had much sleep and he'd have to leave to go back to Devil May Cry soon unless he wanted to risk missing important calls.

"What was the argument about this time?" She asked though she had a suspicion that she already knew. Each new argument always seemed to come with something else and the insults became more barbed every time. Dante seemed to have a problem with these arguments because he couldn't answer in the ways he normally did. He was forced to return to the old cliché of _'you're living in my house you'll play by my rules'_ which never got them anywhere. Though that still wasn't the main problem he had with these constant arguments, she could tell that it hurt Dante far more than he let on when the argument ended with the constant flood of _'I hate yous'_ because he was beginning to believe that his son really _did_ hate him. She supposed it was hard to look at it as childish rebellion when you were the target of the abuse; Alexander had thrown a glass at his father once which Dante had narrowly dodged. To be honest Trish suspected that the violence stemmed from her children's' three quarter demonic blood, but Dante overlooked it often treating the pair like humans when they clearly weren't.

"Oh just the usual," Dante sighed turning his head to the side to stare across at the opposite wall. Trish began combing the hair on the right side of his head through with her fingers. "He wants me to tell him… _stuff_."

Trish grimaced, that old nutshell. "Dante maybe you should…"

"No, Trish, just…" he sat up running a hand through the bedraggled mop of hair and undoing all of her work on untangling the knots. "Just no, okay?"

"But maybe…" she bit her lip trying to find the right words to convince him even when she already felt that she was fighting a loosing battle. "Maybe it's time that they learned. Maybe if you taught them to fight-"

"You mean maybe if I taught them to _kill_ things?" He asked his voice laced with sarcasm and something deeper, something she couldn't place.

"To _defend_ themselves," Trish persisted resting a hand on his arm and giving it a squeeze to attract his attention.

Dante shook his head. "I'm not getting them involved in this, not now-" _not ever _"- I want them to just have normal lives for as long as possible."

"But they _know_ Dante," Trish stressed trying to get through that they weren't innocent little kids anymore. How many times had they had to lie about their father's job? How many times had they fallen and cut themselves only to watch the skin knit back together before their eyes? How many times had Alexander given himself an electric shock or Evey broken something through brute strength? If their parents didn't start to give them answers they were going to worry, going to lable themselves freaks of nature.

She knew why Dante was truly so hesitant though. Or at least one reason which tied into all of the others and made him the most nervous. All through his life Dante had come across people who abhorred demons and couldn't stand him for what he was. Somewhere deep down she knew that he feared his children's rejection at the revelation that their father was the son of Sparda, even if they were demons themselves (in some respects they had more demonic blood than their father). Maybe if they had told the kids the truth from the beginning it would have been easier, but now after nearly fourteen years it was far easier to lie than admit the truth.

Finally, finally Dante feared the effects of the power they possessed. If he trained them they became a threat to other demons and they'd be the targets of their attacks. He'd detached his two lives from one another almost perfectly; he was nearly one hundred percent certain no demons knew of the existence of his children. And then there was that niggling sensation at the back of his mind which told him not to teach them at all in case they became too strong. She knew that Dante harboured a fear of what demonic blood – power – could do. He didn't want either of his children to share his brother's fate and was doing the only thing he could do to prevent that.

Trish could tell all this merely from the way he was sitting, the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the way his words danced so carefully around what he actually felt. Dante could be an enigma or an open book and she had a feeling he wanted to be read; either that or she had become exceptionally good at it over the passed years.

"Trish-"

"Dante you'll have to tell them at some point. They're not stupid they'll figure it out. Do you honestly think that their thinking you're a mercenary is worse than you killing demons?" She asked studying his expression for the answer knowing there would be little, or cryptic, truth in anything that he said. They hadn't ever intended on telling the kids that Dante _killed_ things for a living until one night he'd stumbled in drenched in blood. Apparently the demons had wrecked Devil May Cry and he'd had no choice but to come home. He had hoped that the kids would be in bet, but hadn't anticipated Evey going to fetch herself a glass of water.

"No, yes, I don't know," he held up his hands in defeat. "I don't know, I've never done this before – kids should come with instruction manuals. But how the hell would we tell them?"

"Your father was a demon wasn't he," it was a statement not a question. "And you still loved him, looked up to him, you never hated him, right?"

"No," his brow furrowed. "Well yes for a while…" Dante raised a quizzical eyebrow. "What are you getting at?"

"It doesn't matter that we're demons we're still their parents," Trish replied. "Just because we tell them that nothing's going to change, they'll still love you because you're their father."

Dante smiled wryly. "That never helped before-"

"Dante-"

"Alright, alright," he nodded slowly running it all through his head. "I get your point."

Trish smiled. "Good. So you'll tell them then?"

"Um…"

"If you don't I will-" She threatened rising from her seat.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. "I'll tell them! I just need," he paused thinking. "Give me until their birthday alright? It'll be a sorta 'coming of age' thing."

Trish nodded; she seemed to like that idea. "Alright, you have a week."

* * *

_A/N: So yeah... what did you think? It feels rushed and yeah... I'll leave it up to you._

_-Lady Luce_


	2. Chapter II

_A/N: Whoops, sorry I only meant to leave this a week before updating. Um I'm not too sure about this fic or the kids I keep thinking maybe I should re-do it and have them younger so yah... also I didn't re-read it heh otherwise I just worry over it for ages..._

* * *

Chapter II

Alexander growled and punched the wall hard, the plaster cracked under his clenched fist. He turned away and threw himself onto his bed brushing some of the light blond hair from his eyes. He _hated_ his father, the man could be a complete idiot sometimes and was more than just that little bit annoying. Though the most infuriating thing was probably that his father ignored every single question he asked and replied with things like 'have you got any homework to do' or 'go and tidy your bedroom'. If Alexander pushed him too far then the argument would heat up almost immediately.

There was a knock at his door and he shoved his head under the pillow. "Go away!"

The intruder didn't and Alex hated his father even more for taking the lock off his door. He sat up throwing the pillow to the floor angrily and rounding on the intruder as the door opened.

"I said go… oh it's you."

"You had a fight with Dad again didn't you?" Evey asked softly closing the door behind her equally as quietly. She didn't really need to ask, people in china probably heard the row which had been going on earlier.

"Yeah, so?" he grumbled lying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

Evey tugged at a strand of silver hair before brushing it behind her ear. "So you okay?"

"Why do you care?" he replied grumpily frowning.

Evey sat down at the end of his bed making a face at the war zone which was her younger twin's room. Well he was only younger by half an hour, but she liked to rub his face in it at every opportunity. "I don't, I just want to know if you and Dad are gonna be at each others throats all evening. If you are I'll ask mum to take me somewhere and you can have world war three by yourselves."

"Well I'm just fine," he pulled himself up and left the bed, making his way over to the drum-set in one corner of the room. He'd let some of his anger out into a creative art – and hopefully piss his father off even more. Alexander wasn't entirely sure if he wanted another argument, but he sure as hell felt like having one.

Evey watched as her brother picked up the drum-sticks and her expression changed to one of despair. "Great. I'm going to go and prepare the bomb shelter then."

"Whatever," Alexander replied nonchalantly. "It's not like you'd care being his favourite and all."

She was about to leave when he stopped her and sat back down raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You're just dad's favourite that's all, he likes you more than me," Alex replied resting his hands across his knees for the moment. "You have to have noticed that by now right?"

"Well maybe if you weren't so nasty to him all the time-"

"So you have noticed?"

"Shut up that's not what I meant," Evey snapped eyes sparking. "They love us both the same Alex."

"Whatever; but Dad's hiding something from me," Alex's pale blue orbs narrowed as he thought. Sudden clarity crossed his features and Evey realized that something incredibly rare was taking place, her brother had an idea. She had a feeling that she should run. "I'm gonna find out what it is."

"No, Alex," she made her way over to him and put her hands on her hips mimicking her mother almost perfectly. "You can't!"

He stood up and their eyes locked in a battle of wills that Evey knew she would loose. Her brother was incredibly stubborn, she could be too, but not like him. When she finally looked away he smiled triumphantly. Secretly Evey wanted to know what was going on too, it was plain to see there was something _different_ about her parents (and them for that matter) she just had enough sense not to ask about it.

"So what are you going to do?" She asked after a few minutes of silence in which Alex gloated over her and Evey tried to ignore him.

His face twisted in confusion and she smirked. Trust him to leave out the minor details.

"You can't think of anything can you?" She mocked enjoying the anger rising in his eyes.

"No, just why should I tell you, then you'll go tell dad," Alex retorted though it was plain to see that he was out of ideas. He knew where he would find all the answers he was looking for, the question was just why. He needed to get to his Dad's office, DMC; the problem was he didn't even know what the abbreviated letters stood for. Their parent's room was 'strictly off-limits'. Not that strictly off limits had ever stopped him before…

He was up in a second brushing past Evey and leaving her to wonder what on earth her twin was planning now. She really hoped that it wouldn't cause more havoc, though she knew that if she called for her father now there would be another argument. If Dante and Alexander were in the same room for over five minutes it was inevitable.

"Where are you going?" She hissed following on his heels though clarity was already forming in her mind as they headed down the hall. "Alex you can't…"

He ignored the despair in her voice and pressed on avoiding loose floor-boards. There was only one room at this end of the house and he didn't want to alert his parents to the fact that either one of them were heading towards their room. If they were found in here they would be in heaps of trouble. Correction, if _he_ was found in here, Evey was Dad's favourite after all, and she'd blame the whole thing on him anyway.

Alexander stood silently staring at the door knowing that this was his last chance to re-think what he was doing though to be honest he never really thought about anything longer than a millisecond. It had sped by already and his hand was reaching for the door knob expecting the room to be locked and slightly amazed when it wasn't. The room was _supposed_ to be locked, but his Dad was possibly one of the most forgetful people in the world.

"Alex…" Evey whispered desperately, but she already knew that nothing she said would do any good.

"If you're going to be a big baby about this then go away," Alexander replied grumpily. "You can be such a girl sometimes."

Evey's eye twitched and she resisted the urge to pummel him into the ground. Her brother was about an inch taller than her, but she was almost certain that she could pin him if he was caught unawares.

The room was dark, curtains closed to the city lights beyond the windows and the light from the hallway cast everything into eerie shadows. It was appropriate for their parent's elaborate taste in furniture. This room was different to all the others in the house, the ornaments decorating it giving it an overly gothic and spooky feel and making the more modern furniture and built in wardrobes feel decidedly out of place. How anyone could sleep in a room this creepy was beyond him. This room was also far larger than the others though Alex knew that his answers didn't lie here in particular.

He crossed the room quickly and as silently as he possibly could heading for a door on the right which could have once possibly been an ensuite bathroom. Evey was following close behind him albeit reluctantly, he could tell that his sister was torn between leaving and staying with him to make sure that he didn't get in even more trouble. He smirked; didn't she know that he was in every essence trouble embodied? He prided himself on it because it was possibly the only art he had perfected over the years. Annoyingly their mother seemed to blame their father for this particular attribute; Alex felt that the credit was misplaced.

Now if the door to this room had been unlocked then this one would be… locked. That made sense really; Alex hadn't expected it to be _that_ easy. He had been half hoping one of the doors would be locked anyway. It gave him a chance to test out his new theory. Flicking the mop of blond hair from his eyes he concentrated hard focusing his mind on one thing only until he could feel the electricity dancing between his fingers.

"Alex what on earth are you doing?" Evey demanded eyes widening. She knew her brother could do this, she had known for a while –it was incredibly annoying in fights – but this was _not_ intelligent! "You're going to electr-"

It was too late, his hand had already latched onto the door knob and she waited for the imminent disaster. Her brother had never paid attention in science when they were learning about electricity so really she wouldn't have expected any less from him. The door shook, he shook, and she was about to scream when there was a loud _pop_ as the lock snapped open… or disintegrated.

She stared at him blankly for a moment. "Door's on fire."

"Yeah I got it," he answered smoothing the flames with a jacket he had swiped off the bed. It was out within a minute, but the jacket was in a decidedly bad state and Evey had to resist the urge to scream at him.

"That's Dad's!"

"Yeah, so?" Alex asked tossing the ruined garment over a chair and advancing towards the door.

"_So!_ He'll kill you…"

"Yeah, yeah-"

"Alex!"

"We'll worry about it later, I told you I'm getting to the bottom of all this first." If his theories were correct then his father would have a whole lot to answer to. The ruined jacket and charred door would be none of his concern. He just needed some incriminating evidence first.

He pushed the door open tentatively suddenly a little… afraid of what was on the other side of the door. Did he actually want to know? This room had one window which was also covered making it nearly impossibly to see in the gloom. He didn't want to risk turning on a light so he'd just have to hope that he could make out everything in the darkness. Books were what he saw first, lots of them on a shelf spanning the opposite wall. That in itself was strange seeing as he knew that his Dad didn't enjoy reading and this was his room.

Alex's eyes lighted on a desk to his left – it really didn't fit in with the cramped room – and he made his way towards it avoiding boxes and crates of god only knew what stacked up against each wall. He pulled open a draw and his eyes grew wide in awe. Guns; he didn't know what make but he thought that for the first time in his life he had found his one true love. They were beautiful, one a deep black and the other flashing silver in the moonlight. Constructed perfectly, they were chunky and yet he could almost see how graceful they could be in the right hands. They were deceptively light and grabbed them without a second's hesitation swinging around to aim at Evey.

"Hands up."

"Alex! Put them down for god's sake!"

He did as he was told this time, her voice was getting increasingly louder and he also had the niggling feeling that the guns were loaded. The last thing he wanted was to shoot her even if she could be an annoying girl sometimes.

"Why do you think Dad has these?" He asked, his back to her as he placed the guns respectively back in their original place. To be honest he was curious about her answer, maybe because he was at a loss as to how he should feel himself.

"To shoot things maybe," she replied not giving the question much thought for the same reason Alex had asked her. "It's to do with his job, just… I don't want to think about it."

He knew he'd hit a nerve so he stopped and closed the draw rifling around another one instead. Paper, books, a big rock… generally boring things until he came to the bottom draw and a polished wooden box which looked like it should hold something valuable.

"I think we should go," Evey said softly glancing at her brother's back worriedly from where she sat perched on one of the boxes. "They'll call us down for dinner soon and this is Dad's stuff, his _private _stuff." When her twin didn't reply she stood up and made her way over. "Alex I said- what's that?"

Alexander was wondering exactly the same thing as he studied the necklace where it rested in its box. The red stone in the centre seemed to glow with an unnatural light, a light which couldn't just be the glow from the hallway catching in the darkness. The stone was lined with a bright gold and the heavy chain glittered in the light. The urge to touch was far too strong and he lifted it with hesitant fingers wondering how anyone could wear this for longer than a minute and not get a bad neck.

Evey was peering over his shoulder as he ran his hands over the gem in the centre before flipping it over. There were words there, but he could barely read them in the dim light. It took him a second to realize that the fist was his father's name carved into the tough metal, and the second… he traced a finger over the carving trying to make out the letters.

"V…e…r-"

The light snapped on, making his job immediately easier though he had no time to think on the second name as he spun around instinctively.

Alex's own light blue eyes met the sparking electric of his father's and he hid the amulet behind his back gulping. Their father was generally kind hearted and fun – when they weren't arguing – but there were times like this when he was just plain scary. The fact that he'd managed to creep up on them without making a sound merely reminded Alex of how inhuman their father could seem sometimes.

"Dad I…"

* * *

_A/N: Erm err yeah -runs-_


	3. Chapter III

Chapter III

"Dad I…"

It was plain to see just from his expression that Dante was furious; Alex was doing his best not to quail under the intimidating gaze and was failing miserably. The seconds were dragging on horribly and Evey appeared to be just as frozen with fear as he was. His voice lingered in the air and he couldn't even work out a feeble apology as he tried to look anywhere but his father's burning eyes.

"Give that to me," it was an order and he obeyed it quickly all anger he had held previously dissipating. He really did _not_ want an argument now.

Dante all but snatched the chain from his hand jamming the amulet into a pocket. "What exactly do you think you're doing in here?" His voice was deadly quiet, but it spoke volumes.

He didn't think he could honestly answer that question and he hoped that his father didn't expect him to. It should have been plain to see exactly what he was doing, explaining his motivation would get him in even more trouble, but there was nothing else he could say.

"Well?" Dante pressed and Alex could feel himself shrinking under his father's gaze.

"I-" Couldn't Dante tell what he was doing? Why did he have to spell it out for him? "I was just-"

Maybe Dante could tell the uselessness of trying to make him admit what he was doing when it was blatantly clear, maybe he just wanted them out of the room, but he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as though trying to quell an oncoming head ache. "Both of you downstairs, now."

They rushed to obey the command and Dante caught Alex's shoulder as he brushed past; Evey was already out into the next room. "Don't think you're getting off lightly and if I ever catch you in here again…"

Dante let go unable to think of a suitable threat. There were a lot of things he could do to make his son's life a chore for a while, but that would make him resent Dante and allow him to believe this was just your typical offence. It wasn't by a long shot and he didn't know how to make Alex see the seriousness of the situation, didn't know because he couldn't explain the full story in the first place.

"Yeah Dad I understand," Alex replied his eyes downcast as he studied the floor-boards and missed the confusion in his father's eyes. "I'm sorry."

He figured that an apology was a good start, but Dante had learned not to take much his son said as truth. Alexander was a lot like he had been when he was younger and he knew the kid would lie to get out of any situation – though Alex also appeared to be a little bit more intelligent than Dante had been when he was that age, it was a dangerous combination.

Dante let his hand slide from his son's shoulder and Alex looked up surprised at the look in his father's eyes because he'd never seen it before. The icy pools suddenly seemed so much deeper and it was possibly one of the first times that he'd felt that he didn't really know his father at all. The man who played football with him and helped him with his homework (though generally asking his father for help with anything academic was unadvisable) was a mere reflection of something underneath, something vaster than Alex had previously imagined.

"Dad?" he asked quietly watching his father with apprehension.

"Go downstairs, dinner's ready, I'll be down in a minute," was the only instruction Dante gave and Alex made a hasty retreat glad that he wasn't subjected to his father's wrath – at least not now anyway.

Dante sighed and reached into his pocket fishing out his brother's amulet. Trish had his one of course, and though it wasn't advisable to keep them both in the same house neither was it intelligent to keep them together as they had been previously. At least this way there was some small chance that the lack of one amulet would be overlooked seeing as no-one but Trish and he knew what had happened on Mallet – or at least he hoped no one else knew. He didn't trust himself to keep one at Devil May Cry either, too many risky clients walked over the threshold nowadays and he had a feeling he'd put it in some stupid place to hide it and forget where he'd put it. No, it was safest in the most obvious place, demons had a tendency to be super-focused in their missions and over-look the things right under their nose (though they were normally too stupid to form a coherent plan anyway).

He laid the amulet back out in its box chastising himself for taking so much care of it. It was the last semblance of his brother he had left, but he thought that he'd left all of his grief behind on Mallet along with that thirst for vengeance; he was beginning to realize that he hadn't, or that he simply didn't know how to function without it now.

The box shut with a snap and he shoved it to the back of a draw hoping that his children wouldn't go searching for it again and trying to put it somewhere where he wouldn't accidentally stumble across it. He had been thinking about giving the amulets to the kids, but something selfish inside him didn't quite want to part with them yet. He only had seven days to come up with a way of telling them about… well everything and it was becoming increasingly hard to decide exactly how he was going to manage it.

* * *

Trish didn't press either of her children as they hurried in and took seats at the dining room table. Dante would tell her everything later, or Alex would, one of the two. Evey was more attached to her father though she enjoyed shopping trips something which Dante abhorred. 

Evey started chattering about her day and school as soon as they sat down, Alex was quieter and she knew immediately that something was bothering him. His eyes were fixed on the peas he was pushing around his plate morosely a curtain of golden hair covering most of his face. She would have to take him to get his hair cut at some point, not that that would be easy; all the men in this household seemed to be more precious about their hair than the women. She didn't know whether that was something her son had inherited or whether secretly all men were like that, but she enjoyed teasing them both about it.

Dante returned a few minutes later looking nearly as troubled as his son. Within moments he was mimicking the boy, picking at his food rather than actually eating it.

"If no one likes my cooking then next time I'll just buy some TV dinners and you can see how much you like that," Trish commented good-naturedly trying to initiate a conversation between the two.

"Huh?" Dante was the first to speak, maybe because he felt it was his duty to make sure they hadn't hurt her feelings. "No, it's nice really…" Honestly nothing could compare to a good slice of pizza, but he could always order one later if work was slow and Trish had decided their children needed to be brought up on healthy food.

Silence resumed moments later broken only by the clinking of cutlery and the creaking of a chair. It wasn't awkward, or at least Trish was trying to make herself believe that as she took a sip of water glancing between the members of her family. Evey was off in a day dream, she could tell from the expression on the girl's face, and it was with the male half of her family where her concern lay. She could feel something rising in the air between them, as though one of them were about to speak, only she didn't know which and she didn't know what would be said.

"Dad," Alex took a breath not able to look up as he continued. "Who's Vergil?"

Dante was so surprised by the question he nearly dropped his fork altogether and forced his face into impassiveness though his jaw twitched. "No one."

"But-"

"I said he's no one," the growl left Dante's lips through clenched teeth and it made everyone pause. Trish didn't know what to say to help and half of her felt that their children _needed_ to know though maybe this wasn't the best way to go about it.

"Alex-"

"But on that… that necklace…" Alex persisted cutting his mother off and staring at his father intently. This was yet another thing that he was hiding from them and he wanted answers. "There was a name… next to yours."

"Go to your room," Dante barked meeting his son's gaze. He didn't need this right now and besides Alex still needed to be punished for earlier; maybe going to bed with an empty stomach would teach him when to bite his tongue. Geez and Dante had always thought that if he became a parent he'd be the fun one. Well he had been until Alex developed the sudden need to make life difficult.

"That's not fair!" Alex protested. "I was just asking-"

"Something which is of no concern to you," Dante interjected staring the boy down. "Now go to your room."

Alex narrowed his eyes and folded his arms. "Make me!"

"Alex, do as your father says," Trish said her voice soft but stern. She didn't want another argument, apart from anything she knew that Evey found them upsetting, and she didn't really like sitting through them either.

"Why should I?"

"Don't talk to your mother like that," Dante warned standing and making his way towards the boy. If he had to bodily drag him from the room he would, he'd had enough of this.

"In case you didn't notice the insult was aimed at you," Alex shot back standing too though his height didn't level up to his father's by a long shot it was better than sitting.

"I don't care, now go to your room," Dante repeated trying to pull off the best 'do-as-I-say' tone though they both knew Alex had the upper hand.

"You'll have to drag me because I'm not going anyway," Alex responded glowering at his father through narrowed eyes.

Dante grimaced and rolled up a sleeve. "Alright then-"

"Dante," Trish cut in alarmed. She did not want a scrap over this which was what they were going to get if one of the two didn't back down. This was the first time Dante had ever threatened any form of physical punishment even if it was only hauling Alex upstairs she knew that the boy would react badly to it.

"What?" Dante asked turning to her with slight disbelief. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just sit down," Trish replied her voice calm.

"And leave him thinking that he can get away with everything?" Dante questioned incredulously. Wasn't there supposed to be some form of conformity in discipline, some united front? And how come he always ended up as the evil one?

"No, just be calm-"

"Well I can't I've had it up to here with him!" Dante growled turning suddenly decided. "I'm going to work."

"Dante," Trish stood then and was heading for the door, but it slammed before she could reach it. Another door slammed then seconds later a car engine roared to life and she heard it turn down into the street. She sighed and turned back to the table dejectedly. "Sit down Alex and finish your food."

* * *

"Sorry babe we closed at nine… just deal with it then okay? Yeah well screw you too." 

The phone hit the receiver with an audible click in the silent room and Dante sighed raking his fingers through the snow-drift of hair. It was the same line he'd been using for years to get rubbish jobs off his back for ages. He'd been hearing about a few minor demons here and there, but they'd have moved on by the time he got to the place – wasting petrol – then the person who'd hired him would refuse to pay. Apart from that the money offered had barely been enough to cover the expenses of demon hunting. Ammunition was never cheap and he wouldn't be by the phone if a really big job came up.

He was in desperate need of money; Trish had been badgering him about it for a while. She of course couldn't help him out at DMC anymore. It would be impractical with a house and children to look after though Dante had to say he missed her company. They never seemed to get any time to themselves anymore one way and another. She had decided she wanted to train to become a cop – why he would never know, personally he found the police force to be an annoying, uninformed bunch – but the course was twelve months, so until then they were on low income. And he needed pizza.

The flash of headlights outside startled him from his reverie and he dropped his feet from the desk the chair landing on all fours with a hard thump. No one ever drove up to his shop. No one did because no one was supposed to know where it was – well save for a select few, but he could easily cancel each out. He stood up and rounded the desk swiping Ebony from the polished surface. Standing in the shadows – the lighting was dim thanks to a few blown-out bulbs – he could make out a shiny black car in the red glow of the neon lights. The engine rumbled one last time then shut off as did the LED head-lights. Seconds later a man clad in black stepped out of the sedan on the drivers side, though Dante was certain he saw someone in the passenger seat no one else exited the vehicle.

He spent so long studying the silhouette in the blacked out windows that he jumped when the door to his shop swung open. Great, letting his guard down like that was really not the most intelligent thing to do. Ebony was in his hand in a second, aimed at the man's head.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

The smooth, thin, curves of the dark-haired mans lips quirked into a smile. His hand remained on the now closed door, whilst his face turned towards the demon slayer. "Is that any way to be greeting potential customers?"

The sardonic tone irritated Dante, and the fact that he couldn't see the man's eyes through the completely black shades only annoyed him further. Anyone who had cause to wear sunglasses at night or indoors was someone to be wary of; either that or they were a devoted _Matrix_ fan.

"Potential customers would know how I go about making business transactions," Dante replied evenly eyes narrowed. "Now you'd better leave buddy because I'm not in the mood for this."

The man turned his head eyes scrutinizing the 'trophies' which hung about the office – or at least that's what Dante thought, the man's eyes could have been staring straight at him the whole time. He stepped forward ignoring the gun in Dante's hand, the finely tailored suit made him look completely out of place in the bomb-site of a room. Pale skin contrasted greatly to the shoulder length obsidian hair that was greased back from his face. A brief-case was firmly clutched in one hand.

"Well I'm here to make you a big offer, I think you could be just that little bit more courteous," he answered in a languid tone heading for the desk, his foot-steps making hollow clicks against the wooden floorboards. He slid the brief-case onto the desk and turned to Dante questioningly, not even minding that he'd put the demon slayer between him and the door. "I've heard that you're a little down on your luck lately, I'm sure you could use a bonus? Just hear me out, what have you got to loose?"

Dante thought for a second, gritted his teeth and lowered his gun rounding the desk and slumping into his chair. The man took one opposite as he sat and the overly polite gesture agitated Dante for an unknown reason. In fact everything about this man irritated him.

"First thing's first," Dante bit at him not bothering to hide his obvious dislike. "Loose the shades."

An indulgent grin spread the man's lips as he removed the sun-glasses and quickly folded them into a pocket of his jacket revealing piercing green eyes. "Better?"

Dante smiled vaguely, "For now."

"Good," came the smooth reply, "my employer has seen it fit to exterminate some pests, he's offering a large sum to anyone who can take them out."

"Why me then?" Dante questioned his tone loosing its previous humour.

"You're the best are you not?" He asked calmly.

Dante ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. "I guess you could say that."

Once again that condescending smile flickered across the man's face and Dante tried to remain nonchalant. "I have assured my employer I will find only the best."

Dante's jaw twitched as he weighed up the situation. Something about the man sitting opposite him put him on edge and what was even more disconcerting was that he couldn't quite place what it was. Someone looking specifically for him with a large sum of money to take out some 'pests'; something was not adding up. Past experiences had taught him not to run headlong into things despite the fact that it was against his nature.

"When you say pests…?" Dante let the question hang in the air waiting for an answer. Either way this guy was lying, he couldn't be offering that much money for something so easy, so either the pay wasn't as good as he was making out to be or the demons were a whole lot tougher. Not that he minded the latter, but he liked to know what he was dealing with so that he could be prepared for it. Most calls he got tended to be the other way around with humans exaggerating the demons out of fear, but what cause would this man have to play them down?

"I'm sure you'd be able to take on anything after defeating the Prince of Darkness, this shouldn't even be an issue for you," the man replied his eyes never leaving Dante's face as he spoke oh so calmly. To be honest it was a little creepy, this guy acted with the detached serenity of a psychopath and it was making him feel just that little bit uncomfortable.

Dante ignored the question which was burning to be asked though he didn't know how well he had hid his surprise. Not many people knew he'd defeated Mundus, there were rumours but apart from that he preferred to keep a low profile.

"This is an over-payed job if you ask me," he said conversationally. "But my boss has a lot of cash to throw around what can I say? Though to be honest you look like someone who's working for the thrill of the fray rather than the money. So, I can promise you a good work out and a nice bonus. Wouldn't want those kids of yours going hungry now would you?"

This time Dante couldn't hide his surprise fast enough. No one was supposed to know about them, nobody. He'd spent ages making sure that it was nearly impossible to trace him to his children.

"H-how?" He couldn't loose the confusion in his voice or the slight panic. Anything else he could have brushed it off, but not something like that.

"Word gets around," the man answered nonchalantly. "It's alright though, your secret is safe with us, so what do you say?"

Dante shifted upright in his chair. "How many of you know?"

"You mean if you killed me right now would it make a difference?" He smirked raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Something like that," Dante replied. Ebony lay on the table next to the man's briefcase and his eyes darted to the gun before his hand reached for the desk draw where Ivory was kept.

"I wouldn't bother then," the man answered confidently. He knew Dante could kill him easily, but he also knew that he had enough leverage to stay the man's hand. "A few men at the company know, they'll keep quiet, but killing me might not be the best option."

Dante nodded slowly, the movement nearly imperceptible. "Alright then, tell me about this job you're being a little sketchy on the details."

"As I've said, simple easy work, we've got a few demons hanging around our HQ. High level I'd assume seeing as they look human, but they've been picking off employees for a couple of weeks now, and well that'd not good for the business," he explained shifting the briefcase across to Dante. "One hundred thousand dollars to take them out and you'll get a quarter of your money up front."

Dante didn't pay attention to the brief case in front of him. The only thing about this job which interested him now was the fact that the man sitting across from him knew about his children. If he didn't accept it then he may not be able to find this guy again when he really needed to make certain that the information was secure. Normally he went purely on instinct with jobs, choosing what interested him or not and never considering the money. This time was different, the bastard had him in a bind and from the flash in his emerald eyes Dante was certain that he knew it.

"How about I come back tomorrow and let you think about it?" The man asked making to stand. "It's getting late and I have an important appointment tomorrow."

"Alright," Dante agreed standing himself. That'd buy him time to think about it, and maybe even consult Trish. "I'll give you an answer then."

"The name's Castor, I may call you if I'm running late," he replied slipping the dark glasses back over his bright green eyes.

"Do you need my number?"

Castor shook his head that grin spreading back across his lips. "I'll call you."

With that he left leaving Dante completely confused and half wondering if he should have shot the man when he had the chance. As the black car pulled out of the drive he caught sight of the passenger he had completely forgotten about until now. _Great_, shady characters offering him money for jobs that didn't add up, people who knew far too much about him and to top it all off his son still wanted him dead. He made sure the door was locked and shut off the lights before flopping down on one of the rotting sofas in the corner of the room, running a hand through the tangle of silver hair. Just _great.

* * *

_

A/N: Eh sorry for the short update. Lots of things have happened, family crisis and all, plus I found Shin Megami Tensei Nocturne and I'm hooked so it's also down to lazyness on my part (though this chapter is a good 1000 words longer than the last one so hopefully that makes up for it?) I'm not too sure about this chapter heh, I think I prefer the end to the beginning but meh there's something not quite right. I also may be editing previous chapters a tad before the next one so look out for that... And thanks for the reviews!

Oh yeah, can anyone think of a better title, I just picked this one randomly but it's suckish heh.

-Lady Luce 


	4. Chapter IV

Chapter IV

"You should take the job," Trish said matter-of-factly not looking up from her book. Dante had invaded her 'me' time and she wasn't happy. Two kids were hard to take care of, three was a nightmare and the way Dante behaved he could quite easily be classed as one.

Dante stared at her disbelievingly. "Have you heard nothing I said in the last five minutes?"

Trish turned a page, pursed her lips. Dante swore she was deliberately dragging this out to annoy him. "We need the money, and you insist upon causing collateral damage left right and centre-"

"The government do it all the time," he replied moodily folding his arms and blowing some of the platinum hair from his eyes.

"The government have money, we do not," Trish answered flatly. She closed the book suddenly – she'd been reading the same line for the past five minutes anyway – and turned to him. "You have to start living in the real world now Dante; it's not just you anymore. I know it's dodgy, but-"

"No you don't get it," Dante snapped, his tone was suddenly serious. "I'm trying to protect them Trish."

"The best way you can protect them is to stick with these guys," Trish answered, a now regular watcher of CSI and avid reader of thrillers she was convinced fiction played out as fact in the real world. Sometimes it did, he had to admit that certain parts of his life had seemed like they'd come straight out of a novel. "If you rub them up the wrong way by turning them down then it's not going to make the situation any better. Find out a bit more about them see how dangerous they are and then we'll make a decision until then-"

"Keep your enemies close?" Dante finished for her already knowing what she was going to say. His brow creased he leaned his head back staring at the ceiling. "I just don't like this guy; I have a bad feeling about him."

"You can't pick your clientele and besides, what did you expect you kill demons for a living," she reminded him as though it could have just slipped his mind.

"Don't say it so loud."

"They're upstairs and besides, you only have a few more days to decide how you're going to tell them."

Dante grimaced. "You know I think you enjoy making life difficult for me up sometimes."

"They need to know," Trish replied her tone serious again as she studied his face. He was cute when he was stressed. She sighed, "but I'm not completely ruthless. Look you talk to this guy tonight, Castor was it?"

Dante grunted; she took that as a yes.

"Right well you talk to him tonight, find out some more information, and if this whole thing really is as dodgy as you think it is then telling them can wait a week or two alright?"

He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in. "Thanks Trish."

"But you do understand that they need to be told? If you don't at some point they'll find out and it will all go wrong."

"Yeah, but there's no guarantee that it won't go wrong now," Dante persisted. "How would you feel if your parents-" he cut himself off quickly. "Sorry bad example. I just don't want them to hate me."

"You never hated your parents."

"My parents were straight with me right from the beginning, and that worked fine, Dad was too set in his ways to change after all," Dante said softly a small smile on his lips. Thoughts of his father had once turned him to anger, now he only looked upon them fondly. "Maybe we decided wrong, but I don't know what to do now."

Trish opened her mouth to speak, Dante held up a hand to silence her. They'd been through all this once before.

"I'll tell them, just let me handle this guy first."

* * *

The plan was brilliant. James Bond brilliant, nothing could go wrong; he was a genius. Alex grinned.

"Dad is so gonna catch you, you know that?" And there was the voice of the pessimist.

"Have a little faith," Alex replied quietly carrying another box out of the trunk of his dad's car and stashing it in a corner of the garage. He didn't have time to go through those boxes now, but he would make certain that he did later. The strange assortment of objects found in the car's trunk included a guitar case. Padlocked, which let his imagination run wild, thinking of mafia movies and how unassembled guns were often stored in violin cases. He could have possibly broken into it, but using the quick option he might have incinerated the guitar case and the long option, well it took up time he didn't have right now.

Evey rolled her eyes. "I should be telling them you know, I don't know why I go along with you on things like this."

Alex flashed her an evil smile his voice overly dramatic. "Because sister dearest as much as you hate to put a toe out of line you're itching to know the truth as much as I am. You've thought about doing this before, I'm just the catalyst to set it all in motion."

Sometimes she hated how he could read her so well. She shrugged. "Maybe, but you're still going to get caught."

"Wanna bet?"

"No, you're already in debt ten bucks."

"I'll pay you back eventually," Alex replied moodily finally finished with cleaning out the trunk. He frowned at a stain in one corner and covered it with an old table-cloth he had stolen from the loft for exactly that purpose.

"I should charge interest," Evey said dryly folding her arms. "You'd better not get me in trouble, do you hear?"

"Nothing is going to go wrong," Alex assured her. "I'm gonna hide in the trunk the whole time, dad goes in to work, I pop the catch from the inside hide outside his place, wait till he goes out and then sneak in."

"What if he locks it?" Evey asked the one thing Alex had over-looked.

"Dad never locks doors you know that, he's forgetful like that," Alex said quickly trying to hide the fact that his perfect plan was caving in on him. It was truth though that their father was one for forgetting things, locking doors, turning off lights, shutting the fridge. Menial tasks which were often over-looked. "And worst comes to worst I can always try and do it myself," he grinned, electricity sparked between his fingers.

Alex glanced at his watch hesitantly then turned to Evey. "Okay dad normally goes to work within half an hour; can you shut me in here?"

"With pleasure," Evey smirked. "Where should I say you are?"

"Glued to the TV, or asleep, you're clever you'll think of something," Alex replied climbing into the boot of the shiny red convertible. To be honest he didn't mind getting caught if it meant he could finally find out all the secrets their father kept from them. He was willing to sacrifice a couple of weekends and allowances.

"And what happens if something goes wrong?" She asked hesitantly hand resting on the top of the boot as Alex got comfortable.

"Well if you care that much about me you can stay up and see if I'm here when dad comes back," he replied balling a corner of the table cloth and resting his head on it. "But otherwise you'll just have to wait until tomorrow. Nothing's going to happen to me though; worst thing is dad will catch me."

She nodded, sighing and wondering how he always managed to convince her to participate in these idiotic schemes. He was going to get them both in a load of trouble or worse get himself hurt. If the trunk flew open on a motor-way, well it didn't bear thinking about.

"I'll tell mom if you're not back when dad is," she decided fixing him with a serious glare. "I'm not joking, and don't touch anything if you do manage to get out without dad finding you we don't want him to know you've been there."

"Aye mon capitan," He gave her a mock salute and she rolled her eyes. This was all going in one ear and out the other. She knew that her brother did have a serious, sensible side he just seemed to choose not to use it.

* * *

The rain was coming down in sheets battering against the roof of his shop wind rattling the window frames. The stink of ozone seeped into clothes, skin, and every small crack in the paint chipped walls; hanging in the air like death. The room was dreary, dark from the blown out lights which he still hadn't replaced. His trophies mounted on the walls only added to the eerie air, Trish had complained about the dried blood when she worked here, but Dante had insisted on hauling home the carcases of particularly evil kills. Whilst he missed the crackle of lightning behind him in battle he most certainly preferred to be able to decorate the place how he liked it.

And now he was just sitting here waiting for Castor to call back. He didn't know how the creepy bastard had gotten his number and he was not happy about it. He rested back in the chair eyes sliding shut. He was tired, he slept most of the day now, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a good eight hours sleep. Devil May Cry was now his little sanctuary away from all the drama of a normal life, but now he felt that was threatened as well.

A crash out-side disturbed the peaceful silence mete out by the rhythm of the rain on the roof-tops. His eyes shot open and he started nearly falling out of the chair in the process. It was probably only a stray cat looking for food in the trash cans, but he decided that it was best to check on it anyway. Dante yawned and grabbed Ivory from the top of his desk not bothering with his jacket as he headed out into the rain.

The red glow from the sign above his shop gave him some light to see in, but in the down-pour the world was still a blurred mass of grey before his eyes. He turned his face away from the rain heading for an alleyway down the side of his shop. He was certain that was where the noise had come from. He turned the corner into darkness, a small light at the opposite end of the alleyway showed him the street beyond, but he couldn't make out much in the chasm between the buildings.

His gun was raised – only because he couldn't see, only because Castor had put him on edge today – but really he knew that no demon capable of bringing him down would be rummaging around in the trash. He moved forwards until he hit an upturned bin, rightened it and jabbed the barrel of his gun into the pit of it. Nothing; not even a cat. He paused peered into the darkness in front of him then went back inside not wanting to spend any more time in the freezing rain than he had to.

The phone was ringing when he returned. He strode across the room, lifted it from the receiver and grimaced.

* * *

Alex breathed a sigh of relief as the silhouette of his father finally disappeared back around the corner. He was lying pressed into the dirt behind a second trash can, now completely soaked from the down-pour. He wished his father would go out already, but Dante didn't seem to intend on moving. Alex sighed… so this was his father's 'job' all he seemed to do was sit inside, to be honest he'd expected something a little more exciting.

He sat up against the wall and hugged his jacket closer to him, not that it helped much. It was soaked through, and he was pretty sure that he was sitting in a puddle though it seemed as thought the whole alleyway had turned into a mini-river. He decided very quickly that he hated rain and someone – possibly Evey – had done this to him on purpose.

The sound of the door swinging open again made him freeze. What if his dad was coming back…? What if he had a torch? He considered running to the other end of the alleyway but decided that would most certain catch his attention and instead tried to make himself as small as possible.

He flinched when light spilled into the darkness, but soon it disappeared again as Dante's car sped away down the street. Alex breathed a sigh of relief, but he was caught seconds later when he realized that if Dante had gone home for now and locked the door then he was stuck out here for the night. That was not the most appealing thought.

Alex picked himself up and headed for the door. The lights were still on. That could mean that his father was coming back, but it was more than likely that he had simply forgotten to turn them off. So what were the chances of the doors being unlocked?

His eyes caught sight of the blinking red sign above his father's shop. He almost missed it in his haste to get out of the rain, but the words branded themselves across his retinas. He had no idea what on earth it meant, the name seemed completely random and he wouldn't put it past his father to choose something which made no sense. It sounded kinda cool though he had to give the guy that.

Inching up to the doors he crossed his fingers and rested a hand on the door handle. This was make or break point. If the door didn't open now then he had more or less sacrificed his freedom for the next month or so for nothing. If Dante was heading home though then it was already too late. Evey would tell their mother if he wasn't there.

He bit his lip, tugged the handle. It gave with a satisfying creak and Alex slipped inside pulling the door shut behind him and turning to the half-lit room. Alex had to quell the shiver which ran its way up his spine. His eyes were immediately drawn to the things which decorated the walls. Amongst the array of swords and weapons bloodied distorted creatures were pinned to the walls dripping black blood and slime. He stepped back until he was pressed against the door, the air suddenly stuck in his throat. They looked so real, but they couldn't be…

Regaining some of his previous composure he made his way into the room. He had no time to waste now; his dad could be back any moment. Humming the _Mission Impossible_ theme tune to make himself feel just that little bit better he circled the room cautiously. The vast space was rather empty save for the pizza boxes and beer cans strewn haphazardly across the floor. A juke-box stood in one corner looking as though it had taken a beating, the same went for the old red sofas on the other side of the room. Alex wrinkled his nose, if his mother could see this place… The thought struck him then. Did she even know?

He didn't know what he'd expected; a private investigators office from one of those seedy black and white movies maybe, with some super high-tech gadgets thrown in. But instead… this place was just a pig-sty.

The sound of a car pulling up startled him and he dropped to the floor in an instant, knowing he would be seen from out-side. His eyes searched desperately for a hiding place and he dived for the desk, pressing himself up against the draws. It may not have been the most intelligent place to hide, but he'd never reach the stairs in time army crawling.

Seconds later the door swung open, shut with a click, and then heavy foot-falls travelled across the floor stopping mere metres from the desk.

"Come now Alex there's no use hiding from me," a voice travelled to him, languid and smooth. It made his skin crawl.

The footsteps were moving closer, rounding the desk, Alex shot backwards nearly hitting the green leather chair when a man in a tailored dark suit appeared next to him.

"Who are you?" Alex asked trying to sound authoritative and commanding whilst his eyes searched for a weapon he could actually lift.

"Castor," the man supplied a plastic smile stretching the smooth skin of his face as he offered the boy a hand up. "A friend of your dad's."

Alex hesitated a second then allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "How do you…?"

"Know who you are?" Castor questioned raising an elegant eyebrow as he crossed to the opposite side of the desk a small smile spreading on his lips. "There's a resemblance… you have his eyes."

Alex's forehead creased as he rested against the green leather chair behind his father's desk. He didn't want to resemble his father in any way. He hated the man, though now he was suddenly wishing that he had walked through the door and not this guy. Every memory of 'stranger awareness' in class was suddenly clicking into place in his mind.

"How do you know my dad?" He asked keeping his voice calm. There was no use showing the guy that he was worried, even if he was seconds away from having his guts torn out.

"Business," Castor replied vaguely running a finger through the dust on Dante's desk. "We've done quite a bit together." The man stopped opposite Alex and locked eyes with him. "I think your father would be angry if he knew you were here."

Alex's gaze dropped to the floor, he told himself it was from guilt, but in truth he couldn't hold the man's gaze. Beneath the clear chips of emerald was something dark and deep.

"Are you going to tell him?" Alex asked quietly.

"Well I'd be a bad friend if I didn't," Castor answered sitting down. "And you really shouldn't have come here all by yourself."

The boy nodded his finger tracing a knot hole on the dark wood of the desk. "Yeah I know, I was just curious," he raised his head slightly to watch Castor's expression. If this man truly was a friend of his father's he should play it to his advantage. "Dad always comes over here I wanted to know what's so great about it."

Castor feigned surprise. "You don't know what your dad does for a living?"

"Well, sorta," Alex said lamely. "But not really," he glanced at the creatures pinned to the walls. _Not at all._ "You could tell me?"

The man's thin lips spread into a smile. "I'm not certain I'm at liberty to say."

Alex's face fell and he bit his lip. "I wouldn't tell my dad."

"Well," Castor seemed to be considering it. "How about I take you to see him now sound like a good idea? Then you could see for yourself."

Alex's eyes narrowed. He didn't like the man, and he wasn't at all sure if he could trust him. Sure he seemed nice enough on the surface, but there was something about him that worried Alex, something hidden deep underneath the false smile.

"Or I could come back tomorrow, if you're not grounded of course," the man said steepling his fingers on the desk in front of him, watching Alex carefully over his perfectly manicured nails.

Alex's face was one of confusion and he bit his lip.

"Or better yet," Castor said smoothly searching in a jacket pocket for something. "I'll give you my number, if you want to call me from your home. Saves the effort of getting over here eh?"

Alex nodded hesitantly watching as the man snatched a pen from the desk and scrawled something on the back of a business card. "Ignore the numbers on the front, they're for clients only."

He slid the card across the table to Alex and he took it hesitantly studying the fine script on the back of the card before jamming it into his jeans pocket.

"Well," Castor said standing up. "Seeing as your father is taking longer than I anticipated I will have to leave now. Good luck."

That was when the sound of a car's breaks screeching up ahead made them both snap round. Castor smiled and slipped on his shades as the door banged open and Alex froze.

* * *

_A/N: Gah I don't like this chapter. I prefer writing from Dante's perspective even if I write him OOC and I was just having an off-day I guess. It was gonna be longer but I figured I'd post because I missed my week dead-line again._

_-Lady Luce_


	5. Chapter V

Chapter V

Dante's head hit the steering wheel with a thud. He kicked his feet against the floor, blew the horn, swore and finally flopped back into the seat staring up at the thin roof of the convertible. Rebellion wasn't in the trunk, he remembered putting it there, but the damn thing was nowhere to be found now. Unless he'd deposited it somewhere at Devil May Cry, but he was certain that he'd left it in the car today. As much as he liked to think that he could do anything and everything it really would not be sensible to rush into this one without a sword. For once the freaked out caller had been telling the truth, though said caller was still missing and he hoped the guy hadn't met a bloody end.

Shifting the car into reverse he pulled out onto the highway and headed back to his shop. The city lights blurred behind the rain on the wind-screen and Dante could swear the roof was about to give way with the weight of the water by the time he pulled into the street. He could see the comforting red glow of Devil May Cry up ahead, and the black sedan parked in front of his shop. He slammed the breaks on harder than intended and skidded up next to the car. He was half tempted to nick a bumper as he parked, but lost his nerve when he decided that he'd damage his own car in the process.

He shut off the engine and left the car slamming the door so hard that the car shook and creaked in protest. Spinning the keys around his finger he jammed them into his pocket and headed for the door. He knew it was partly his fault for leaving the doors unlocked, but he felt the anger rising in his gut as he kicked the door open.

He had of course expected Castor, the car could only belong to him, but what he did not expect was for Alex to be standing behind his desk staring at him with wide eyes. Dante blanched, felt something in his gut twist and had just about enough sense to close the door behind him.

"What…" his voice was unnaturally weak the first time he spoke and he cursed himself for it. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't really know which of the pair he was talking to, Castor with his shades and overly smug smile or Alex who was clutching the arm of his chair so tightly that it looked as though the wood might snap.

Castor took a step forwards and Dante could feel the man's eyes on him even though he couldn't see them through the dark glasses. He had the sickening uncertainty that this was all going exactly as Castor had planned and that he was being manoeuvred into a trap, penned in slowly from all sides though he still had the easy option of blowing the guy's brains out. He'd never been very good at chess anyway and had often turned the board over before now. He smiled slightly; despite Vergil's guessing every move he was about to make his brother had never anticipated him throwing the pieces across the floor. Dante had learned never to play by the rules from an early age.

"I couldn't get a hold of you so I thought I'd come visit," Castor answered matter-of-factly seeing as Alex seemed to be stunned. "Your son was poking around here when I arrived," he paused about a metre from the demon hunter. "You should really be more careful where you let your children play Dante," a thin smile quirked the edges of the man's mouth, "they might get hurt."

Dante's hands balled into fists, but he kept his anger at bay. He longed to wipe that grin off the man's lips then throw him out, but with Alex standing there he couldn't. He didn't know how much the boy already knew, but he knew he couldn't explain it all to him in a way that would justify violence to a child. As well as that he couldn't let the man out of his sight unless they parted on mutual terms or he could be happy that Castor was well and truly dead… so until then he had no option but to do as Trish said and keep his enemy close. So as much as he hated it he gritted his teeth and said nothing, but anger flared in his eyes and Castor's smile only grew. The man was using his son as a shield and they both knew it.

"Dad…"

Alex's voice broke through the tension that was steadily growing in the room and Dante's head snapped round. He was minorly relieved to have some excuse to leave Castor, some front to put on as he crossed the room to his son. Dante couldn't pretend that he was stupid to the man's game not when Castor wanted him to understand it, but if he put on a poker face and acted like he wasn't worried then maybe he would gain the upper hand. He really didn't know how he could when Castor was using his own children as pawns and he had nothing on the man at all. Sure he could kill him, but from the way he acted there were many more people willing to take his place. He could call the man's bluff, but not here with Alex in the room, the last thing he wanted was to traumatize the kid. The feeling of being caged in was slowly creeping up his spine as he finally reached his desk and leaned over it catching his son's eyes.

"You took the guitar case out of my trunk didn't you?"

It was not the question Alex had been expecting. He blinked, opened his mouth though no sound came out until he finally managed a shaky nod. He wasn't afraid of his father, no, but there was something strange about him in this place… as though he belonged here. He belonged with these things, with this atmosphere it fitted; made something he knew unrecognizable like staring into a fun-house mirror.

"I'm sorry," his head dropped to stare at the floor. He really had done it this time, the situation had become serious now, it had… changed. The air was static between his father and Castor, he could feel it, something unspoken which he didn't understand and the way his dad seemed to be wary of the man was worrying. One thing he knew about his father was that it took a lot to put him on edge even in the slightest. Now he had the immense feeling that he was out of his depth.

"Not as sorry as you're going to be," Dante bit out though he was now glaring back across the room at Castor. "I think you'd better leave."

The man nodded the thin lines of his face still fixed in that smile. Dante knew his eyes would betray it if he could only see them, that was the one thing disturbing about each grin, smile or smirk that graced the man's lips… they didn't reach his eyes. The emerald orbs were cold and lifeless, if there was one thing which set Dante on edge about this man more than his smile it was his eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow then?" he asked heading for the door. "We didn't really get the chance to talk did we? And I still have a job for you."

"Yeah," Dante answered half-heartedly. It was impossible to keep the dislike from his voice. He shrugged aware that Alex was still in the room, that Castor could say one thing and no matter how many lies he told his son wouldn't believe him. Then again it might already be too late. "Or just give me a call, I can meet you somewhere and we can get this over with."

"Why not?" Castor threw him a sharp side-long glance, but Dante could tell the man's eyes were now fixed on his son. "See you later."

Then he was gone, slipping back into the night to join the shadows, sliding through the darkened city in the black sedan.

Dante fell into a chair and rested his head in his hands running his fingers through knotted hair. Alex stared blankly at the top of his father's head.

"Sorry," he mumbled weakly wondering what was going to happen now. There were so many things he wanted to ask his father, but they all died on his lips. He should never have come here.

"I don't know what to do with you," Dante sighed still staring at the desk, he was really talking to himself, but the words slipped out all the same. Of all the things in the world to try and make sense of children were the hardest. The problem was that despite how annoying they could be there was no way you could ever possibly hate them.

Dante looked up at Alex and his expression changed as he stood up, rounded the desk, caught Alex's icy blue eyes with his own matching pair. "What did he tell you?" Like Alex couldn't notice the demon carcasses strewn about the shop for himself.

Alexander shrugged a hand unconsciously slipping into his pocket to pick at the business card Castor had given him; his eyes never left his father's face. "Not much, he… he said he worked with you. We didn't talk for very long."

Dante sat down on the corner of his desk, narrowed his eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

The boy hesitated for a second glancing at the walls then decided that maybe that wasn't such a good idea. He didn't want to tell Dante about the business card because he knew that once they left this place that would be the only way he could go snooping into his father's life again. As sneaky and dangerous as it was he was running out of options and he _needed_ to know what was going on. He could see the gun strapped to his father's hip, the grotesque decorations on the walls. Once he left this place Dante would go back to being regular old Dad and the two worlds would separate.

"Nothing," he replied eventually now unable to tear his eyes from the walls, from the blood; black blood… "Dad… Dad what," he didn't know how to word the question and could feel it dying on his lips under his father's cerulean gaze, but he _had_ to know. "What is all this? All this stuff," he gestured at the room with a free hand, "the guns, the swords, what do you do?"

"Alex, please-"

"No Dad!" Alex cut off his father's placating tone. "None of it adds up, I can _see_ it all now, you can't hide it from me. What's going on?" His father's gaze was burning and he backed off a little to the opposite side of the chair. "All these weapons, the food I eat… is it put there because people die? Is that what you do here, out there? You just kill people for money?"

"Stop," Dante's voice rung in the air; stopped Alex mid-flow because of the strange timbre to it. Once again there was the feeling of something alien and yet the same; a voice he'd heard before, but with an edge he didn't know. "Alex, sometimes you just have to accept that there are things you don't know and that you're better off not knowing," Dante sighed, Alex caught the almost unconscious movement as his father covered the handle of his gun with the edge of his coat. He pushed himself off the desk and stood up. "Come on, we're going home now, and if I hear another word you'll be lucky if I let you see daylight for the next ten years."

* * *

Alex flipped the business card over in his hands, read the flowing script of a cell phone number on the back. He'd been doing the same thing for hours now within the confinement of his room. He was stuck in here every afternoon after school, internet cut off, drum set confiscated… he'd really done it this time even his mother had looked upset and that struck a chord in him somewhere.

But he still couldn't let this go… everything was there, it just needed some making sense of, but every time he tried to make sense of it all it didn't… like a puzzle with missing pieces. Only there were far too many missing to draw any conclusions from it all; and the only person who could tell him anything was a complete creep. He had to weigh up his options now, and for once he was actually putting thought into something. Was it better to just accept that there were things you didn't know like his father had said?

He could always talk to his mother, but there was the chance she'd go straight to Dante with it all or maybe she wouldn't know herself. Did she know what he did and accept it or was she ignorant to it all? They'd been told from a young age the job their father did, but it had been sugar-coated beyond the gruesome truth. The idea that they lived on blood money left a sour taste in his mouth, and the phantom of who his Dad really was had struck a nerve. This wasn't just about what his father did for a living it was about who he was full-stop. The sudden realization forced Alex to the answer of what to do; he would never be able to rest until he knew the man his father truly was.

Alexander bit his lip and stared at the dried ink on the back of the white card. He had to call now before he lost his nerve, he had to know… The sudden decision had him jamming the card back into his pocket and heading for the door. So what if he had been ordered to stay in there? It had never stopped him before. The phone however happened to be downstairs which might make it that bit more difficult. Every floor-board that creaked sent an involuntary thrill of gathered electricity up his spine. There was no way on earth he was going to make it down-stairs without someone noticing, so it was best not to creep at all and act at though he were doing something productive. Searching for a calculator to do his maths homework for example.

Strangely enough no one seemed to notice his intrusion as he walked through the house towards the kitchen were the phone sat in one corner of the room. Of course his father was asleep – probably cast half-heartedly across the couch unless he had rolled off onto the floor – and Evey was doing her homework or working on some science fair project. Once she had tried to get him to test his powers on one and sent a lethal voltage up his arm. He was quite certain that it had killed a few brain-cells and that he should be compensated for it, but he had been unable to convince his parents of her evil intent. Because really his sister was evil personified, but he was the only one who could see it.

In the kitchen he had to stop himself from raiding the cupboards for chocolate – that had been banned too – and instead headed for the phone. Chocolate would have to come later in the grand scheme of things. Just as he was turning to leave his mother entered the room with an empty mug of tea, he had just enough sense to jam the telephone into a back pocket before her eyes fell on her son.

"Alex? Aren't you supposed to be upstairs?" She asked accusingly as she filled the kettle again and set it on the boil. She was staring at him, right through him the way she always could and he swallowed.

"I was looking for the calculator," he replied deciding to use the pre-determined lie. It was not uncommon for stationary to become lost in their house so it was not that far a stretch from the truth, and if there was one thing he had learnt it was that the best lies stuck close to the truth. "Trigonometry," he added by way of explanation, they had only just begun to teach him it at school and he already loathed the subject.

"Ah, well I feel for you," Trish smiled sympathetically, she'd never learned Trigonometry and she never wanted to. The problem was that between herself and Dante they were both hopeless when it came to helping their children with home-work. They were pretty lousy parents really when it came to things like that. Dante still behaved like a child, so he wasn't very good at compromising over things and as far as she knew she'd never been one. She sighed. "Alex I'm sorry about all this, but you do know it's for your own good right?"

Dante had woken her up shouting when they came home a few days ago. He was angry because he was afraid for Alex's well-being but their son seemed to miss all of that. After another full-blown argument the boy had been sent to bed with threats looming over his head and Dante had told her everything that had happened. She couldn't help but think that telling their son the truth would have been the better option, but Dante had once again refused; he wanted to get Castor off their backs for good and only then would he answer Alex's questions. She felt sorry for her son because she would want answers too in that situation and he was being punished for something quite out of his control. Sure normal kids did what they were told (or didn't as the case may be) but they didn't have demons for parents.

"Yeah Mum I know," Alex nodded smiling because he didn't want her to feel bad, because he couldn't take her 'I'm disappointed in you face'. "I'm fine really, only another twenty eight days."

"Your father was a little harsh, I might bend the rules," she said grinning as she opened a cupboard and rifled around for a packet of crisps throwing it to her son. "Don't let your Dad know alright? It's our little secret until I can talk to him."

Alex smiled though something in his gut twisted. She trusted him, she was bending the rules for him and he still had the telephone, he was still going to make that call. He exited the room when her back was turned to spoon sugar into a teacup thanking her and promising that he wouldn't tell.

The crisps were stashed under his bed for a better time as he swiped the phone from his back pocket and retrieved the business card. He dialed the number hesitantly making sure that he didn't get a single digit wrong then waited a beat before pressing the call button. He lifted the hand-set to his ear and waited as the phone rang; the sound was ominous in his ear, as though this was somehow something greater than just a simple phone call. He heard the click as the phone at the other end of the line was lifted, a heavy breath in the receiver.

"Hello?" his voice sounded awfully small, stuck in the back of his throat.

"Hello Alex," came the smooth reply and just from the tone of the man's voice Alex could tell he was smiling. "I've been waiting for your call."

Alex swallowed, hoped his voice wouldn't come out in that pathetic squeak again. "Yeah, well you said you could tell me about my dad, and I've got some questions I need answering."

The man laughed, he could hear the crisp sound as it crackled through the receiver. "I said I could _show_ you what your dad does Alex, I never said anything about telling, that'd be going behind a friend's back."

"You're not friends," Alex replied bluntly, he had more confidence on the phone, not staring into the man's eyes. "I know you're not, so tell me the truth or you're a waste of time just like my dad."

There was a pause as though the man on the other end of the line were considering something. When the voice returned there was something different about it, it was softer, far more serious. "Alright Alex I'll level with you; you're quite correct, I'm not a friend of your fathers, as for business partners that's what your dad thinks. You see I had to make sure I could trust you Alex, can I trust you?"

Alex bit his lip and his brow creased, he nodded even though there was no one to see it. "Yeah, yeah you can."

"I have been watching your father for some time, Alex you must understand that telling you this is extremely unorthodox, in fact it's against the book full-stop, but with a man like your father we're playing a completely different ball game," Castor said into the phone grinning like a Cheshire cat. He kept his voice smooth and calm.

"Wait, so what are you saying?" Alex asked quizzically. "That you're a spy… from like the FBI?"

"Something like that," Castor replied carefully. "I can't really tell you details Alex, but I can tell you this: we're the good guys."

"But…" Alex couldn't quite form the words couldn't make his tongue work, "but that would make my dad…"

"Yes Alex, I am sorry to tell you this, but your father isn't a good person, he's done some very bad things, and now I need your help," Castor left the bait dangling, waited for a reply. His assistants had already traced the call, if the boy didn't agree to this then they simply went in and grabbed what they wanted.

"My help…" Alex trailed off; his world seemed to be crumbling before him, like he suddenly couldn't find any stable ground. Despite the fact that he argued with his dad on a regular basis he had always thought that when he came to the end of this string of lies his dad would be the spy, the James Bond… the good guy. Now he was realizing that maybe he really didn't want to know. "With what? And if I help you you'll tell me about my dad?"

"I will tell you everything you want to know if you will meet me tomorrow night," Castor answered reassuringly. "It will be safe, I assure you no harm will come to any of you. There is just something I need you to bring for me."

He hesitated; he was fighting down a sudden creeping panic. He'd just been shoved head first down the rabbit hole; this was the kind of thing that was supposed to happen in his mother's thrillers, not real life. "What, what is it that you need?"

"An amulet."

"An amulet?" His voice had turned to that pathetic falsetto again, and he couldn't help it.

"You may never have seen it before, it will be hidden somewhere, but we are certain that it is in your house," Castor explained slowly and carefully so that Alex didn't miss a word of what he was saying. "A heavy gold chain with a blood red stone and on the back it is inscribed 'Dante and'-"

"Vergil?" the name came out as a hesitant whisper. That name meant something very important; it stuck like tar in his throat.

"You've seen it?" The voice on the other end of the line sounded surprised for once, almost hesitant. "Alex you've seen the amulet?"

"Yes."

* * *

_A/N: I actually like this chapter, isn't that amazing? I like something I've written. And well yep sorry for late update, I'm writing a Christmas fic too only what 6 days now to finish_ _it TT so the next update might be a bit late too. If I don't see ya before then Merry Christmas!_

_-Lady Luce_


	6. Chapter VI

Chapter VI

With only twenty four hours to complete his mission Alex left it to the very last possible moment to make up his mind. This time though he had a valid excuse for his procrastination. What Castor had said had said left him shaken and confused. He didn't know who to trust and it was a terrifying feeling. If he made the wrong move then something very bad was going to happen. He didn't know who to listen to, part of him wanted to believe that Castor was wrong, but how could he when so much was stacking up against his dad?

He had decided to give his father one last chance and ask him straight out what was going on. If Dante wouldn't answer then he'd have no choice but to go to Castor. Maybe he was only thinking that way to assuage his guilt, but it seemed like a logical decision.

Leaving his room was of course not allowed, but this was far more important than that right now. It was early morning, so his father would be asleep on the couch. Making his way down stairs he entered the living room and circled the sofa. He stared blankly at the man sleeping there for a moment wondering if his father could really be the cold-hearted killer Castor had made him out to be. To be honest his father didn't look like a murderer… especially not asleep and drooling all over the sofa. He reached out and poked his father's face, not entirely sure of how to wake him up.

Dante started, jumping up and grabbing Alex's wrist before he knew who his 'attacker' was. Alex merely stared at the death grip on his wrist. He was trying to imagine those hands covered in blood, choking the life out of someone and he couldn't though he felt disgust crawling up his spine at the thought.

"Dad," Alex said quietly. "I need to ask you something."

Dante let go of his hand and sat up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be in your room?"

"Yeah, but this is important," Alex replied watching his father closely.

"Important enough to wake me up?" Dante grumbled still half asleep. Normally he wasn't so grouchy with either of his children, but Castor was putting added stress on his life and so was his son.

"Dad, I need to know the truth."

His father raised his head to look at him through blood-shot eyes. "The truth…?"

"Yeah," Alex replied not backing down. He was determined that he had to know now. "About everything okay? Evey and I know you aren't telling us everything; we're not stupid little kids anymore. I _saw_ your office dad, I saw it all, you can't just explain that away."

Dante was left for once without anything to say. He resisted the urge to despair, scream, something of the sort, Alex could be a nuisance when he wanted to be. He _could_ of course tell Alex the truth, but he had planned on something a little more extravagant. He wanted to sit them both down and speak seriously to them, make it a coming of age, something special. And he also didn't know what on earth to say or how to go about it all. Dante wasn't the most eloquent person in the world and he needed to think carefully about what he was going to say.

"Alex," he said almost desperately, scrambling for the words to say, trying the soft approach seeing as he knew most others failed. There had, in the not so distant past, been a time when his word was final. When no meant no and Alex would drop the subject just like that, now his son seemed to go out of his way to do exactly the opposite to what he wanted. Teenagers he guessed, he knew that he'd been just the same, but he'd never really had parents to discipline him in the first place. "Please just leave it."

"No," Alex ground out eyes flashing. "This isn't fair! You can ground me for my whole life, I don't care, but I'm going to find out what is going on Dad whether you help me or not."

"Alex," he was trying to be calm, but he was finding it increasingly difficult. "Go back to your room; I'm not going to tell you anything when you're like this."

"Well it's your fault!" Alex growled loosing it quickly. "You're always like this! I can't stand it; just once Dad would you tell me the truth? What could be so bad huh?"

"Alex…"

"Just tell me!" He yelled half terrified because he honestly didn't know how his father was going to react. "What do you do which is so terrible that you can't tell us?"

"I'm not going to tell you Alex, go back to your room," Dante repeated not giving way. He wasn't ready to tell Alex and he didn't want his son to find out like this.

"Fine," Alex clenched his fists to stop them from shaking. He didn't understand why he was so angry, but rage was coursing through him, if his dad would just tell him then he didn't have to go to Castor. He knew deep down he had wanted his father to prove him wrong. Tell him the truth that he wasn't some heartless killer, but this seemed to be confirmation that Castor was right. His eyes narrowed and he turned on his heel storming out of the room. "You'll be sorry."

* * *

Finding the amulet again had been harder than Alex previously thought. His father had hidden it somewhere and he had to be careful not to alert anyone to the fact that he was not in his bedroom. Fortunately for him Dante wasn't brilliant at hiding things. He found the amulet in a box at the back of the room and pocketed it quickly. He'd opened the door in the same destructive fashion as the first time he entered the room. Not that it mattered, it was still ruined – nothing ever got fixed in their house – a pad-lock had been substituted, not that such a device was any match for Alex.

Now he was just waiting for his father to go out, then it was a simple matter of sneaking out and waiting for Castor. He had a suspicion there wouldn't be much waiting involved though. The man had been eager to get his hands on the amulet, and had given him exact details of where they should meet. Alex curled his fingers around the golden chain in his pocket trying to quell the panic rising in him. He had the creeping feeling that something bad was going to happen. If he gave Castor the amulet he was selling his father out, but if his Dad really was as terrible as Castor said he was then he deserved everything he got. Alex hated to admit it, but he was beginning to realize that Castor was right and it stung him somewhere deep down. He felt betrayed; betrayed by the man he'd called father for fourteen years when it was becoming terrifyingly clear that he really didn't know him at all.

Either way tonight was going to tear his family apart and he was judge jury and executioner. Was it selfish to want to know the truth so much that he was ready to sacrifice both his mother and Evey's happiness? Then there was his dad. Maybe there was some other reason he did what he did. Maybe he'd been forced into and now he couldn't get out. He'd read about things like that happening in books, but he knew that it wasn't the answer. There was something beneath the surface here, each layer he scraped away revealed another one twice as deep and now his only way forwards was to talk to Castor.

The slam of the back door jarred him from his thoughts and he made his way slowly to his bedroom window just in time to see his father's car zoom away down the street. A quick glance at his watch told him it was eight PM. Castor had requested he meet him two blocks from here at the edge of an old park he'd played in when he was a kid. He had precisely fifteen minutes to make his escape and meet the man.

His bed was already set up, clothes lumped under the covers to look like a sleeping form – he'd seen it in the movies maybe it would work. As a final precaution he'd left a note under his dummy's head. His mother would try to drag him out of bed in the morning and Castor had promised to get him back home before dawn. He hadn't told Evey about this one, he knew that if he told her she would try to stop him and probably tell their parents.

Jamming the amulet into his pocket he unlatched the window and shoved it open. One thing he'd learnt as a kid was that he could fall from a second story window and remain unscathed. Well that wasn't entirely true. He could fall out of a tree of the same height as a second story window and endure minor pain for a minute or two before he felt right as rain again. Though he didn't like the idea of any pain whatsoever he was convinced that if he was prepared for both fall and landing this time he wouldn't suffer any injuries.

For once one of his theories was proved right. He leapt out of the window and landed with cat-like grace on the side-walk below. He gave himself a few moments to recover then sprang up racing down the street into the darkness. If his mother or Evey had heard him he needed to get as far away as possible from his house.

He sprinted most of the way to the park only stopping once to hide the amulet in a tree half way to his final destination. He wasn't as completely stupid as he appeared and knew that people were rarely truthful when making deals. If he wanted Castor to keep his end of the bargain then this would have to do. An old knot-hole he had once hidden treasures in when he was a small child though none had ever been as valuable as this. Leaving his only bargaining chip here was a risk he would have to take.

As he made his way to the park nerves quickly began to get the better of him. Twice he thought about going back, but caught himself and remained calm. If he wanted the truth then he had to do this. He had no choice now. When Castor's black sedan came into view however he was all for bottling out. Fear snaked its way into his chest and made his breathing tight, but before he knew what was happening the man was striding towards him and he did his very best to force his face into impassiveness.

Castor greeted him with a smile still wearing his shades even in the middle of the night. With them was the familiar dark suit and slicked back hair. He really did look suited to the role of a secret agent, heck he looked like he'd just walked off the set of _Men In Black_.

"Alex, I was worried you wouldn't come," Castor began as Alex stopped in front of the man's car. His tone was different to the last time he'd seen him; softer more relaxed and with less edge than before. This time the smile almost felt genuine as Alex tried to catch the man's eyes behind the dark glasses. Maybe it always had been genuine and he'd been too edgy to notice it.

"Y-yeah, well I'm here now," he tried to hide the tremor in his voice and failed miserably. "So you can tell me everything you know."

"First let me see the amulet," he said smoothly holding out a hand. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the child would bring him the amulet and then it would be quite easy to persuade his father to hand the other half over if his son were in danger.

Alex folded his arms and shook his head. "I'm not that stupid. You can have the amulet when you tell me everything."

Castor's fingers curled back into a fist and distaste marred his features. The kid really wasn't as stupid as he looked and annoyingly neither was his father. "Where is it?"

"I've hidden it," Alex replied wondering if it was too much to give away, but that was how you won at cards wasn't it? Letting your opponent see you had the upper hand, but only just enough to make them worry. Alex wasn't entirely certain if he did have the upper hand, but he wasn't about to let Castor know that. "You're going to tell me everything you know first and then I'll get it for you, deal?"

Castor's thin lips pulled into a sneer as he contemplated the matter before nodding quickly. It wouldn't be too hard to get the kid to talk if he wouldn't tell him where the amulet was. And he had never planned on letting Alex go in the first place. He moved to the opposite side of the car, opened a door and turned back to the boy. "Alright then, if you'll come with me I'll take you to your dad."

Alex hesitated and fidgeted on the spot. This was the point of no return and standing out here with the darkness pressing in and Castor's eyes on him he was becoming anxious. Was this really the right thing to do? Everything about the situation seemed wrong… and even if Castor was telling the truth did he really want to know.

"Unless," Castor's voice cut through the stream of thought. "You've changed your mind."

Alex shook his head vigorously. "No." With that final utterance he walked around to the passenger's seat and climbed inside. Castor fallowed suit and turned the keys in the ignition. Immediately the car hummed to life the dashboard lighting up in an array of colours. Alex could, as well as any young boy, admire the beauty of such a vehicle, but it did little to keep his mind off the present situation.

The drive was silent and uncomfortable until Alex couldn't keep the questions in anymore. Questions he should have asked before he got in the car.

"Where are we going?"

"To see your father, isn't that what you wanted?" Castor asked not taking his eyes off the road. Or at least Alex didn't think he had.

"At his office?" Alex asked curiously, he didn't really want to go back to his dad's office, and he most certainly did not need Castor's help to get there.

"It's impolite to answer one question with another," the man reprimanded dropping into third. "But no, I thought you wanted to see what he does, correct?"

Alex nodded apprehensively staring out of the car window, trying to memorize exactly where they were going though he was already lost.

"I feel that it is best for you to see it with your own eyes rather than have me tell you, and there is always the chance that you won't believe me." Castor continued making their way steadily towards the centre of the city.

"So how long have you been 'watching' my dad?" Alex asked conversationally finding that talking eased the tension though only by a little. He also needed to get the full picture; he had a feeling that both his father and Castor were hiding something from him. "And what does he think you do?"

"Your father believes that I am a client of his. He is on the job I requested for him to do right now in fact, that is how I know where he is," Castor replied coolly. "As for the rest its classified information I am afraid."

"Well you've already broken a lot of rules," Alex said quickly. "I doubt telling me any more would hurt."

The edge of Castor's lips quirked, but he didn't reply and the rest of their journey was in silence, leaving Alex to contemplate the mess he was getting into and the queasy feeling at the pit of his stomach.

* * *

"Son of a-" Dante hit the wall hard and slid down it with a pained grunt only just managing to roll out of the path of an oncoming claw. An inhuman scream shook the air behind him as the infuriated creature found its talloned hand now embedded in the wall. Dante swung round shotgun already free and in hand pointing almost point-blank at the thing's skull. The creature's gaping maw stretched impossibly wide as another furious cry rent the air. It pulled violently against the resisting concrete in a mockery of panic before Dante pulled the trigger with a smirk the recoil shuddering up his arm. The thing's skull fragmented on impact blood and gore splattering across the pristine walls of the office building as it dropped to the floor like a stone, clawed hand still embedded in the wall.

Dante wiped some guck out of his hair pulling a face at the slime now coating his fingers. He smeared it across a free patch of wall before bending down to examine his now deceased quarry. He shoved the corpse with his foot rolling it over and trying to make out a discernable form through the blood and muck and whatever the hell that thing was. To be honest he wouldn't normally give a damn except that there were more of these things on the way – it had cried out for help or in warning either way the rest would be on top of him in moments.

"God you're an ugly bastard aren't you?" He asked prodding it with the butt of his shotgun and grimacing. It looked more like something out of a sci-fi movie, humanoid in shape, but deformed and awkward looking. The thing's fingers were jagged claws double the length of a normal man's, and its eyes were a deep black similar to the cold depths of a shark's. It was most certainly a mindless killer and _made_ for it. That in itself was something bizarre. He'd seen creatures in the underworld which were murderous and blood-thirsty; almost adapted to their environment. Either hulking and using brute force to simply crush their enemy or so creepy it'd make even the toughest person rethink taking it on, but this… it was almost _designed _for what it did. The creature's lithe form allowed it to move incredibly fast, almost too fast for Dante to follow at points, but it had a deceptive amount of strength behind it – as Dante found after being thrown into the wall a couple of times. Its body was a bloody sun-burnt red, almost as though it had been stripped of its skin and left with the muscle below.

In other words Castor had lied to him. This job was no where near as easy as he had made out and here in the sixty odd story office building with air-vents and elevators galore these things seemed to be in their element.

Dante stood wiping off any remaining guck and making his way down the hall. Well at least now he had learnt how to kill the buggers he just had to slow one down enough to get a shot in. He smiled, flicked the empty shells out of the shotgun and reloaded it humming to himself as he went in search of the creature's buddies.

If he'd stayed a little longer he would have seen the thing's skin begin to fizzle and pop, burning away to reveal a form below… a very human form.

* * *

Alex stared up at the huge black sky-scraper. It reflected and blurred into the night sky as he stood watching it, the occasional light flickering in a window of the higher stories. Castor stood some few feet away talking into an ear-piece which was very in keeping with the FBI/_Men In Black_ image. He was still wearing the dark glasses and Alex was amazed that he could see at all let alone drive.

A few moments later he unhooked the ear piece walking with calm steps back towards the boy. "Now stick close to me Alex," he said crisply leaving no room for argument. "Your father's just finishing up in there, but it is still very dangerous do you understand?"

Alex nodded dumbly excitement and apprehension spilling over into uneasiness making him lost for words. He'd fallen right down the rabbit hole now and there was no going back even if he wanted to. So he followed Castor up the steps to the impressive looking office building biting his lip and twisting his fingers into knots. He flicked his hair out of his eyes irritably until Castor finally reprimanded him for his nervousness.

He watched as the man slid a card key through the lock on the door, tapped a password into the keypad. This was proper high-tech stuff, and to be honest there was a small part of him which was terribly excited about having fallen into a Bond movie; even if his dad turned out to be the villain…

Castor held the door open for him and Alex wandered apprehensively into the entrance hall, his footsteps echoing hollowly in the ample room. An impossibly large fish tank glowed eerily in one corner, small flecks of silver darted through the water catching the moonlight which shone in through the tall windows at the front of the building. The entrance hall was vast, reaching up at least five stories, one whole side completely open to the night save for the double pained glass. Maybe it was bullet proof Alex pondered as Castor locked the door behind him and steered him towards an elevator.

Once inside the ear-piece came out again and Castor whispered into his shoulder leaving Alex to stare at the elevator control panel and the impossible number of floors. He glanced at Castor from the corner of his eye trying to make out what the man was saying. Seconds later the faint echoes of a scream followed by what could distinctly be heard as a gun-shot made him stare upwards in horror. A shiver ran up his spine and he felt anxiousness twist in the back of his throat. What was he doing? Whatever was up there… he suddenly didn't want to know. He swallowed hard and glanced at the elevator control panel tempted to press the emergency button, to do _something_. The lights flickered and Castor clicked his tongue.

"Your father truly is a destructive person. I told him any mess he made would be docked from his pay," the placid tone raised the hairs on the back of Alex's neck. He could feel his breathing picking up; feel the panic rising in him as his eyes searched for the escape hatch. How could he have been so stupid? He didn't even have a weapon… his hands balled into fists at the thought.

What seemed like hours later the elevator doors slid open and Alex didn't honestly know whether he wanted them to or not. When Castor slipped a gun out of a holster beneath his jacket alarm bells went off at the back of his mind.

"Why do you need that?" he asked alarmed as his eyes ran across the slim form of the Beretta clasped in Castor's practiced hands. His mind was racing as Castor took him by his for-arm pulling him out of the elevator. Was that gun for his father…? Would the man shoot him?

"I hope that I don't," Castor replied lowering the gun for a second to stare at Alex seriously. "Now I want you to follow right behind me, if you see something tell me and by all means do not run."

Once again Alex could only nod as he followed closely behind Castor wondering what he should be seeing or not seeing as the case may be. And why would he need to run…?

A slow paced five minute walk from the elevator the stench hit him hard and he knew what it was even though he'd never smelled it before; blood. Lots of blood and as they turned a corner it only confirmed his thoughts.

He screamed; he couldn't help it, clutching onto Castor's arm and squeezing his eyes tight shut. "No… No…" His body was shaking, and vomit was rising up into the back of his throat.

"Come on now Alex, it's only a little blood," Castor chastised though he allowed the boy to cling to his arm as they maneuvered around the mangled body. Quiet clearly some of Dante's handiwork though the creature had now reverted back to it's human form.

"A-A little," Alex breathed not even daring to open an eye as he shuffled after Castor. "Are you… are you crazy?"

"No," Castor answered softly. "But you're going to see a lot more blood Alex so I suggest you get used to it."

Another gunshot wailed through the air and Alex flinched instinctively. This was a nightmare, he was blind and the stench of blood was making him nauseous as he followed a stranger he barely knew towards even more danger. He wanted to go home now, but home seemed so far away.

Finally they turned a corner and Alex dared to open his eyes though he couldn't make himself let go of Castor's arm. A shout echoed down the halls next, angry, and most certainly human…

"Dad…"

Another gun-shot cut him off and a high pitched scream which didn't sound human at all…

"I want to go home," he whispered his voice shaky; he could feel hysteria creeping in as his throat tightened. "I want to go home."

"It's too late now Alex," Castor replied keeping his voice calm as he ushered the boy down the corridor. "I think your father has just finished the job anyway. Wouldn't you like to see him?"

"No," Alex shook his head though he still felt his feet moving forwards. He tripped a few times his grip on Castor's arm the only thing keeping him upright. "No, I want to go home!"

"Keep your voice down," Castor ordered as they came ever closer to the sounds of a struggle though it was clearly drawing to a close as two shots fired in rapid succession.

They turned into a dimly lit corridor and Castor pulled Alex forwards so that he could look around the corner. Alex did so through blurred vision. Through the darkness he could just make out the man dressed in red who he knew to be his father, the silver pistol raised in his hand and the smile on his lips as he pulled the trigger and a strangled scream rent the air. It was human this time and Alex could just make out the shape of a man amongst the rubble. He could tell there had been a fight here… walls were destroyed and water leaked out onto the floor spilling from the drains. A light flickered and sparked down the hallway, but the rest of the place was cast in darkness. Dust hung thick in the air along with the choking stench of copper.

"Dad!"

Dante's head snapped to the side and his eyes widened in horror, his face blanching as realization slowly set in. His mouth opened almost comically and then shut again when no sound came out. Alex stood meters away from him, Castor behind the boy with that goddamn smile etched onto his face. Dante didn't care about Castor though it was his son who he was worried about, tears were pooling in the boy's eyes and he was clearly shaking.

"Dad…" Confusion was clear in his son's eyes as his brows knitted and his jaw clenched, but his bottom lip was trembling. "You… you…"

He had to get away… throwing Castor's heavy hand from his shoulder he turned and raced in the opposite direction, fear and adrenalin gave him speed as he tore down the corridor from the scene before him and the smell… the stench of blood. Castor was right; his father was a murderer…

"Alex!" Dante's shout echoed behind him filled with panic and then followed by heavy footsteps as he dashed after the boy.

Castor's gun was at the ready as Dante sped past, one carefully placed shot and the hunter's legs slipped out from under him. Normally the wound wouldn't have stopped him, but in his sudden frenzy and with his guard down it was enough. It burned too, far too much for a normal bullet wound and whilst he would have liked to put it down to exhaustion from his previous job he knew it wasn't. Dante skidded to the side and collapsed into a wall gasping as another bullet tore through his shoulder. The man emptied three more shots into his chest, ripping through muscle and shattering bone as they tore through him; one skimmed his heart and sending pain clawing up his spine.Castor fired again as Dante's hand went for his gun. It was severely mangled by the time Castor stamped down on his wrist to hinder any more attempts at an attack.

Alex stopped running when he heard the first shot half expecting it to be aimed at him. He dropped to the ground and turned in time to see Castor with a gun to his father's temple a wicked smile on his lips. The shades had been slipped from his emerald eyes as the man glanced down the corridor at him; the look in them sent a chill up his spine.

"Alex," Dante ground out tasting copper on his tongue as his lungs filled with blood. His body was working desperately to heal the wounds, but when he felt the cool barrel of a gun pressing into the skin of his forehead he knew it wasn't anywhere near fast enough. There was something wrong here, something _very_ wrong. He was afraid, but not for himself, for the boy in tears half-way down the corridor. Alex had to get away; he needed to run now whilst Castor was distracted. "Run!"

"Dad!" Alex screamed as Castor pulled the trigger and Dante's head lolled. Shock made his breath catch in his throat as he pushed himself to his feet shakily. He wanted to run back to his father, but he wasn't that completely stupid. He stumbled down the corridor blindly not certain where he was going just knowing he had to put as much distance between him and Castor as possible.

* * *

_A/N: Ah don't like this chapter... I always have it sorta right in my head, but when it comes out on paper it doesn't work. And I apologise for the delay. I was trying to write that Christmas fic, but it died on me. I should never tell people I'm writing something, it seems to curse whatever I'm doing. And then... I sorta decided I wanted a break over Christmas so I was just sitting watching TV and stuffing myself with food :P I also much prefer writing from Dante's perspective and as you can see there was very little of that in this chapter so that is another possible explanation for why it took me longer. Anyway everything will be explained in the next chapter - but that one also might take me a bit longer because I'm not entirely sure what's going to happen myself. Bleh. So hope you all had a good Christmas and New Year and bye for now!_

_-Lady Luce_


	7. Chapter VII

Chapter VII

"Mom?" Evey rubbed her eyes sleepily as she made her way into the kitchen, the sound of the kettle boiling downstairs for a fifth time in the past half hour made her decide that she should get up and see what the problem was. The early morning sun streamed in through the windows painting the sky in a fiery red and blinding Evey as she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. "Are you alright?"

Trish didn't look at all alright, Evey was pretty sure that her mother hadn't slept at all last night. The mussed hair made it obvious that she had at some point tried to sleep, but the blood-shot eyes and numerous coffee cups made her believe that it hadn't been for that long. She was currently chewing on one of her – previously – perfectly manicured fingernails and staring at the floor.

Evey's brow furrowed, "mom?"

"Your father didn't come home last night," Trish said quickly. To be honest she wasn't completely certain why she was so worried, maybe it was women's intuition acting up. Or maybe it was because Dante had told her previously that he was doing that job for Castor tonight.

Evey's eyes darted to the wall clock. It had just turned eight, her father was normally always home at seven, but from experience she knew that sometimes he didn't come back until at least midday. "But he's been out this late before." She tried to comfort her mother sitting down in a seat opposite her.

"Yes, but," Trish went back to gnawing on her fingernail. "Normally he'd call…"

"Mom if you want you can go see him," she offered. "Alex and I will be fine on our own."

Trish nodded thoughtfully. "I might. Would you go wake your brother up and ask him what he wants for breakfast?"

"I can cook," Evey began, but Trish held up her hand and shook her head.

"You just woke up," she said standing to rinse out her coffee cup in the sink.

"You've barely slept!" Evey protested.

"Go wake up your brother," Trish replied leaving no room for argument. Whilst her mother could be very placid at times – save for with their father; she'd seen Trish smack him over the head with an encyclopedia once – there was always an underlying tone in her voice which warned you not to cross her. It was this underlying tone along with a look her parents would sometimes share which told Evey there was something going on beneath the surface that she was ignorant to. Not that it was all that hard to work out that their parents kept secrets from them, but it told her that this wasn't just your average family secret. No, this was something big and she had a feeling it was all connected. Her brother lacked the clarity to see that this could be something that was better left unknown, or even that there was a perfectly logical explanation for why their parents hadn't told them. Still she couldn't deny that she deeply wanted to know what was going on.

Shoving open her brother's bedroom door she cursed him for not waking up earlier – and therefore having to make her walk all the way back upstairs when she was not quite ready to wake up.

"Alex," she said flicking on the light. "Alex wake up you lazy lump."

Normally she'd have expected some form of reply by now even if it was only a pained grunt demanding that the lights be turned back off. Instead she heard nothing, not even her brother's heavy breathing.

"Alex," she persisted crossing the room to his bed, ignoring the panic rising unbidden in her chest. "Alex I said get up!"

A quick yank of the sheets confirmed her fears that everything was not at all alright. She threw the sheets down on the floor and stared at the lumped clothes for a moment in horror. How could he do this? Why hadn't he told her? Didn't he even care that their mother was going to be even more worried if he was missing?

But she had no choice in the matter, she had to tell Trish and she raced back down the stairs taking them two at a time.

"Mom," she panted skidding into the kitchen nearly falling over a chair in her hurry. "Mom!"

"What? Evey what is it?"

"Alex," Evey muttered, both angry and terrified at the same time. "He's not in bed…"

Trish's eyes widened and she nearly dropped the pot of sugar before catching it again. "He's what?"

"He's gone," Evey clarified. "He made a dummy out of clothes in his bed."

Trish had pushed past her before she could say anymore and was up the stairs in a flash Evey hot on her heels. When they reached Alex's bedroom Trish stopped in the door way for a second taking the situation in before going to the desk obviously searching for some clue as to where her errant son had gone.

Evey paused thinking as she watched her mother's frantic search of the cluttered desk. She moved back over to the bed and lifted the dummy's head smiling slightly at the folded up piece of paper on the pillow. She hated how much she knew her twin, but sometimes it was a blessing.

"Mom," Evey held up the paper offering it to her mother for her to read.

Trish snatched it from her hand and unfolded the note. Her eyes darted rapidly across the messy hand-writing before she sat down heavily on the bed hands dropping to her lap.

"Mum?" Evey asked apprehensively.

"I have to find your father," Trish replied finally already heading for the door.

"What's happened?" Evey asked hurriedly catching her mother's arm. If her brother was in danger she didn't want to be left in the dark. "Mum, what's going on?"

Trish hesitated then turned back to her daughter brushing some of the silvery hair out of her eyes. "Look honey, Alex has… got mixed up with a very bad person and I need to tell your father and help straighten this all out." Trish paused and bit her lip. It was one of the few times Evey had seen her mother uncertain about anything. "And… I'll have to take you with me, because we could all be in danger." She decided finally, with Dante behaving strangely and Alex missing there was no way she was leaving Evey here by herself. Dante wouldn't be happy about it, but she had a feeling that if he'd just told them in the first place then none of this would have happened. It wasn't the time to point blame at one another now though, she needed to get her family back together.

Evey's brows knitted together quizzically. "Mum?"

"Get dressed alright?" Trish said quickly, her voice was soft but firm. "Warm clothes, and then go make yourself some breakfast and get something for later I'll be down-stairs in a moment."

* * *

No matter how hard Alex tried to be brave he couldn't stop shaking. His father was dead. He'd just seen Castor murder him in cold blood. His breath hitched and he bit into the heel of his hand to stifle the sound. He hadn't been able to run far; a few corridors and his legs wouldn't hold him after the shock of it all so he'd tumbled into an office and curled up behind the desk. 

His mind was reeling, he'd just seen his father kill someone, everything he had thought from the beginning had been true. But now Castor turned out to be just as bad and his dad was dead. It was all his fault, if he hadn't ever trusted Castor, if he hadn't run just now would his father still be alive? Fresh tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. It was done now. He had to remind himself that he couldn't change what had happened; now he had to get out and warn his mum.

It took him a while before he could make himself move, and he did so inch by inch. Castor was still in the building he was certain of it and for all he knew the man was coming after him now. He listened for footsteps outside, for any sign of someone beyond the small office room and heard nothing but the slight hum of the air conditioning system. His heart jumped into his throat when he rested his hand on the door handle and pushed down slowly. Castor could just be standing outside waiting for him or round the next corner in the hall.

The hinges squeaked as the door swung open and Alex slipped through as soon as the gap was large enough. He checked the hallway quickly before heading away from where he had come. The elevator was that way, but there had been more in the entrance hall, at least six on three different walls. He would have to work his way back to the centre of the building eventually, but he was going to try and get to the other side first. Maybe if he could just find a phone he could call the police… the office he had chosen to hide in had lacked any furnishing aside from the desk and chair.

This was like something out of a movie, he thought making his way oh so slowly down the corridor, just when one of the characters got picked off by the bad guy. He had to remain positive though and just not think about it. He could do all that later; right now he had to concentrate on getting out of here alive.

A few more corridors and he realized that he was lost. Not that he knew his way around, but every hallway, every office room looked the same and his sense of direction had left him stranded. Every office room he searched was empty save for the compulsory desk and chair and he quickly realized that this place was not inhabited. Come to think of it the whole place smelt very _new._ The entrance hall and outside had been sleek and modern in design, it was a new building which had yet to be sold. But if that was so why had there been people here?

Despair began to sink in when he came to a fork and stared down each corridor until he couldn't even remember which one had lead him there. He was completely lost with some psycho after him and no way of reaching the world some fifty feet below.

That was when he heard it. A scream which sent fear clawing up his spine and his heart seize in his chest. He'd heard it in the elevator earlier and put it down to imagination and echoes, but this time it was very real and very close. Fear sent adrenalin coursing through him and he ran. He didn't care where he was going as long as he was moving away from that sound. In the darkness he was blinded save for the faintest hint of light occasionally which allowed him to just make out walls and doorways.

He turned a corner and tripped a hoarse cry escaped his lips as he crashed to the floor landing heavily on his shoulder. The fall knocked the air from his lungs and when he took a gasping breath he choked. Flipping over onto his back, despite the pain in his shoulder, his eyes widened and his stomach twisted. The now all too familiar scent of blood filled his nostrils and he felt bile in the back of his throat. He scrambled backwards and away from the body lying strewn across the hallway covering his mouth and nose to try and block out the smell and stifle a scream.

Alex leant against the opposite wall trying to pull himself up though his legs wouldn't hold. He wanted to break down and cry, his breathing was coming in rapid gasps and the dead eyes of the man laying mere feet away from him stared blankly into his own. He knew he was hyperventilating and tried desperately to calm down though it did no good even when he screwed his eyes tight shut.

When he opened them again he saw it. At the opposite end of the corridor a shadow stood within the shadows, blurring as his own eyes struggled to focus in the dim light. Panic raced through him; it was Castor coming back to finish the job, but then rational thought set in. Whoever, or rather whatever, stood at the end of the hallway was far too tall to be Castor. There was something about the shape which instantly sent fear shocking down his spine. It was human, but disfigured and hunched and when it finally turned towards him he got a glimpse of bright yellow eyes. They shone like a cat's in the darkness, reflecting and magnifying light into an eerie glow.

He knew it had seen him, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Oh so slowly he raised a hand and pulled him self back an inch at a time. He didn't know whether it was better to move slowly like this or make a sudden dash for the nearest office room. Despite the sudden primal urge to run he remembered what Castor had told him before. Maybe the thing hadn't truly seen him yet, like T-Rex's, they could only smell right? (That was if everything he had learnt from _Jurassic Park_ was correct). So maybe the stench of blood would mask his own scent and allow him the chance to escape? He didn't honestly know, but until it began advancing on him this way seemed to be working.

Or at least it did until he heard a scream behind him. It shook the walls and floor beneath him, something beyond terror seized at his throat starving him of air as he turned. The second one was closer, barely three meters away and even in the half-light it was clear that the thing was inhuman.

Then before coherence could even form a logical thought in his mind he was running fueled by instinct and adrenalin. He had to run straight into the creature at the far end of the hall, back past the dead body and the odor of blood. If he could slip down an adjacent corridor back where they crossed then he might just stand a chance. He flew round the corner and kept on running, but he knew meters from the turn that he was no where near fast enough.

Fire ripped across his back seconds later and he cried out in pain as he crashed to the ground. Flinging himself to the side just in time he missed a clawed hand swinging in his direction. Electricity collected on his finger-tips, he could feel it pulsing through his veins, shocking down his arms and then it spilled forth in a blast which left him blinded. It had never worked like that before. Previously he had been able to conjure what compared to this could only be called a spark.

The creature behind him stumbled back in anguish, the air filled with the scent of burning flesh as it popped and fizzled sickeningly. Alex grunted in pain pulling himself to his feet, he could feel viscid liquid pouring down his back and an odd burning sensation at the edges of his parted flesh. Despite it all though his brain seemed to be working in over-drive, he blocked out the agony and kept on moving, pushing himself forwards though now his movements were hampered by his wounds.

He barely made it another yard before pain tore through him again. It sent him crashing back down to the floor his jaw cracking sickeningly against the hard ground. This time he cried out, hands balling into fists and his eyes screwing tight shut. It took him a moment to register the source of pain through the fog clouding his mind. He twisted round to get a glimpse of his attacker; half of him didn't honestly want to know his own fate. When did see the thin, pointed talon which had ripped through the muscle and skin of his ankle, now pinning him to the floor, he had to hold back the sudden urge to vomit. His mind was sickeningly slow at relating the blood he saw pooling around his mangled jeans to his own affliction. It gave him the time to absorb what was happening and came out with the quite obvious solution; he was going to die.

The things, whatever they were, were making low growling noises as they stood over him. He knew they were communicating, though he honestly didn't care what they were saying. The strange noises were a cross between a bird's chatter and the fierce roar of some great predator. The sickening idea that they were arguing over who would be the one to kill him only barely penetrated his thoughts as he tried to squirm away. It proved to be impossible though, the claw which pinned him had driven through to the concrete floor below and every time he moved it tore through a little more of his flesh.

He was loosing too much blood, though the thought only occurred to him when his vision blurred before him. Fear was racing through him, but when he tried to summon the strength to attack again electricity fizzled lamely at his finger-tips. He was exhausted and terrified and about to be devoured by some blood-thirsty mutants. He didn't honestly know how the situation could get any worse. That was until a high pitched whistle rent the air ahead of him. He forced his head up struggling to focus as black spots danced in front of his eyes. His breathing was coming in ragged gasps and he knew that the small strain of holding his head up and trying to see was sapping his last ounces of strength.

The world seemed suddenly silent after the sound which still rung faintly in his ears. Save for his own harsh breaths and the hollow thud of footsteps walking towards him there was nothing, even the monsters had stopped their bickering to watch the newcomer. Another shrill cry from the whistle and there was a visceral squelch as the talon was retracted slowly from his ankle. He cried out in pain as blood spewed from the now open wound sending another wave of dizziness over him. His coherence was slipping as the floor was flooded with sanguine liquid and the stranger's footsteps reached him. Alex felt himself being pulled gently onto his back and then shaggy hair was stroked from his eyes. Through his hazy vision he couldn't make out the face above him, but the touch was far too soft and gentle to be a man. Thin fingers ran through his hair lovingly massaging his scalp gently.

"Mom?"

"Ssh now," the voice whispered faintly, "it'll be alright now I promise, mommy's here."

* * *

Dante's eyes flickered open moments later only to stare into the black depths of Castor's shades. The man was standing some two feet away, studying his finger-nails and feigning boredom. Dante groaned and rubbed his aching temple with his un-damaged hand inadvertently smearing blood from the entry wound across his fore-head. 

"What the hell…?" He managed around the large amount of blood still bubbling up his throat. He could feel his lungs knitting themselves back together as he spoke, but the dark liquid continued to leak from the corner of his mouth. His head was pounding and he was finding it incredibly difficult to grasp a lucid thought.

Castor's lips only twisted into a smile Dante had become far too familiar with in the past week. "You're a strong one, I'll give you that."

Dante glowered at Castor and made to pull himself up. In an instant the man had his gun aimed at Dante's fore-head. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The hunter's jaw clenched, but he remained still. Age had taught him a few things despite his reluctance to learn them. He knew when it was sensible to do as he was told despite the rage boiling in his chest.

"Where's Alex?"

"All in good time," Castor replied leaning against the opposite wall the gun still trained on Dante's skull.

"Tell me where my son is!" Dante growled. His hand felt healed now, and the pain in his head was slowly fading, if he could catch Castor off guard maybe he could take him, even with those tampered bullets.

"He'll be just fine as long as you killed all of our little friends," Castor answered with a wicked grin and an edge to his voice which sent fear into Dante's heart.

"If you dare…" Dante threatened barely controlling his rage. He wanted desperately to trigger and tear the man before him to pieces, but in all honesty he knew he couldn't. He was exhausted from hunting those _things_ and though he hated to admit it those bullets really did the trick, he was certain there was still one lodged in his shoulder. Whilst his body was working on repairing itself there was very little he could do, but thinking of Alex being hunted down by those creatures made his heart clench. "If you harm even one hair on his head…"

"It has nothing to do with me," Castor replied innocently moving back across the hall and kneeling so that their eyes were level. "If he dies it will be all your fault for not doing your job properly."

Dante gritted his teeth and made to lunge at the man, but he barely had the chance to move. Three slugs slammed into his skull in rapid succession robbing him of his sight as a harsh cry tore its way from the bottom of his throat. It took some great effort to stay conscious, but sight was still lost to him and his ears rang thoughts snatched from his coherence until he was only left with blind agony. He slumped back against the wall as blood streamed from his temple staining his snow white hair a bright crimson.

Somewhere at the back of his mind he heard the gun go off again and then a surge of fire spread up from his gut wrenching furious spasms from his diaphragm. He was vaguely aware of a voice, faint and far away though he could see nothing beyond the mist clouding his vision.

"You actually thought you could beat me didn't you?" Castor was asking, gloating over the bloodied body before him. Dante's eyes were hazy and sightless though there was clear hatred burning in the pools of sapphire chipped with silver. "Well after all I guess you are some great demon hunter, defeated the king of the underworld, but guess what? You can't even kill some pathetic little human." Castor let out a mirthless laugh standing to pace the corridor. "And here I was thinking that for once I might finally have a challenge!" He leant back against the wall, slipped the magazine from his gun. "You want me to tell you a little secret? I guess you've worked out that these bullets hurt a damn sight more than normal so there's no harm in telling you is there?"

Castor flicked a bullet from the magazine before re-loading his gun, rolling the bullet between the thumb and fore-finger of his free hand. "It's hard to come up with something to weaken a half-devil to be honest, but then again I guess it's just a simple case of logic. Bullets hurt humans and holy water hurts demons so you see where I'm going with this? And then just as a precaution we had all our bullets engraved. Tiny little symbols for god knows what, but hey they seem to be working right? If you believe in all that voodoo nonsense."

Dante gritted his teeth, blood popped sickeningly on his parted lips as his jaw worked, lips managing to form a few anguished words. "Shut up… bastard."

He tried desperately to make out the fuzzy shapes before him, but he could only see through a red haze and spots danced in front of his vision. Taking a staggered breath he stretched his arm out behind him in a valiant attempt to pull himself up, his other hand wandered to his holsters searching for a gun.

"Oh no I don't think so," Castor hissed his voice suddenly closer. Dante swallowed as the cold steel barrel of the gun was pressed against his fore-head hard enough to leave a circular imprint on his skin. Could he remain conscious if he took another bullet to the brain? He could feel viscid liquid pouring down the back of his neck and matting in his hair. He was loosing a lot of blood, and fire was eating away at the fresh wounds were the traces of holy water burned his skin. The symbols engraved on each bullet slowed the speed of his healing even when they had passed through his skull into the wall behind him. "Now Dante I want you to be good for me and do what I say-"

"Like hell I will," Dante grunted and lashed out blindly with his hand, the closed fist swinging in to connect with Castor's cheek. The man stumbled back slightly alarmed, but the gun remained pressed against his fore-head.

"Stay still if you want to see your son alive again," Castor ordered wiping blood from his split lip. The mention of Alex seemed to instill some sense into his captive for Dante held still his labored breathing the only sound in the hall for a short while before the man continued. "I need something from you… that amulet. Your son was going to bring it to me you know for the truth about you. So really we know who to blame for this sorry mess don't we?" He saw pain flash across Dante's face and smiled maliciously. "So you have an option here, if you don't meet me back here tomorrow and bring the amulet the next time you see your son he'll be in a body bag."

Dante was about to speak though what he would say remained a mystery to him as Castor pulled the trigger. Pain seared through his awareness and then his body went rigid. Before sliding down the wall leaving a trail of blood in his wake. By the time his head hit the floor he was unconscious.

* * *

_A/N: Err not too sure about this chapter, but if I left it I probably wouldn't edit it tomorrow 'coz it's my birthday (gonna be 16 :D) sooo here it is. Sorry much didn't really happen and stuff will be explained soon, I'm still working on some of the finer details._

_See ya until next time!_

_-Lady Luce_


	8. Chapter VIII

Chapter VIII

The fragmented whisper of an ancient nursery rhyme haunted the halls of the grand manor house on the out-skirts of the city. Vivienne Delacroix sat in one of the most elaborate rooms of her stately home, perched on the edge of a grand bed in one of the guest rooms which now housed a young boy.

The boy shifted in his sleep and she reached out to delicately brush away the strands of gold which had fallen across his eyes. "Ssh you're safe now."

Alex grunted and his eyes flickered though they stayed closed. He was only barely awake, his mind clinging onto the hand in his hair through the frail delirium of sleep. It was soft and warm against his brow. Strangely comforting as the singing started up again. The voice was fragile and faint; each word sounding like it would be the last to slip from the woman's mouth.

Finally he managed to pry his heavy eye-lids open; even the dim light from the lamp at his bedside stung his eyes, he could barely make out the blurry figure leaning over him.

"Mom?"

"Yes darling," the warm hand brushed across his forehead another time. "Everything's going to be alright, mommy's here now." The voice answered and he knew instantly that it most certainly was _not_ his mother. That thought shattered his dreams as his eyes snapped open in alarm.

He shoved the woman's hand away violently crawling back against the head-board. "You're not my mum." It was the only thing which at that moment could penetrate his coherence.

"Alex sweetheart it's alright," Vivienne cooed softly reaching out again.

He slapped her hand away. "Don't touch me!"

"Darling, I know you're upset," she pressed her painted red lips together thoughtfully. She spoke with a voice which told of big money, cruises in the Caribbean and fine dining, acres of manicured lawns and gardens. The tear drop diamond earrings which shook with every minute incline of her head spoke volumes too, and the satin sheets, the silken red dress she wore. Everything about this woman was elaborate and expensive, and though her voice was soft and kind there was nothing motherly in it. "But it's alright now; everything's going to be fine. Your wounds are healing nicely and if you're hungry I can have some food brought up. There are some new clothes laid out for you over there," an elegant gesture of her hand, Alex noted the perfectly manicured nails, "your old ones really were a disgrace I had them thrown away-"

"No," Alex said bluntly putting an end to the stream of words.

"No?" She asked a hint of surprise in her voice as her blue eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean no?"

"I mean," Alex tore away the sheets scooting out of the other side of the bed. Through the panic in his mind he registered the strange feeling of silk against his skin and was slightly disturbed to know that someone had changed him into the elaborate night-wear. "I mean no," he repeated backing into the wall. He would have to go past her to get to the door, a chance he didn't want to take until he was a little more awake. "I'm not your son alright? I don't want food or clothes or… or… whatever! Just tell me where I am!"

Long eye-lashes fluttered and hurt crossed her face as she smoothed out the rumpled sheets.

"You're home," she replied eventually. Tears had pooled in her eyes and she was biting her lower lip to stop it from shaking. "All I… All I ever wanted was to be a family and now," she swallowed back tears, "and now I-I buy you nice clothes and look after you and this is how you thank me?"

Alex was for that moment speechless. It was quite clear this woman had a screw loose, unless this whole act was simply designed to trick him he didn't know, and he didn't want to stick around long enough to find out. He had to get home and tell his mom what had happened to Dante… unless she already knew. His stomach knotted just thinking about it, his dad was dead and he hadn't even had the chance to mourn the loss properly. It didn't look like he was going to either unless he could escape from wherever the hell he was.

"Alex…"

"How do you know my name?" He asked sharply. "And who are you?"

"My name is Vivienne Delacroix," she answered wiping carefully at her eyes so as not to smudge her make-up. "And your father told me your name."

It took Alex a moment to register what she had said, maybe because every mention of his father seemed to throw him off kilter. "My dad's dead."

"No, your new father," she replied as though it was obvious. "Alex I know this is hard to understand, but you're safe. I'm going to take care of you now, nothing bad will ever happen to you."

"But I want to go home," Alex whispered suddenly realizing how true that was. He wanted to go home and be with his family and forget all the things he didn't need to know. If he'd never stuck his nose into business that didn't concern him none of this would have ever happened.

"It's alright sweetheart," Vivienne said softly as she made her way around the bed towards him. The elegant maroon dress she wore swayed gently as she walked. "I know this is difficult, but you'll get used to it all soon. Do you want a puppy? Would that make you feel better? I can buy you anything in the world Alex if it will make you feel better."

"I want to go home," he repeated, because it was the only words he could force from his lips. Despite the fact that this woman was clearly psychotic she didn't appear to be the murderous type of psychotic. Why would she have brought him back here and looked after him if she wanted him dead?

"Alex you are home now," she sighed taking his hand in an attempt to lead him back to the bed.

He pulled out of her grasp quickly. "No!"

"Alex-"

"This is not my home!" He shouted trying to push past her to get at the door, but she caught him by the arm again. "I don't belong here! I don't live here let me go!"

"Alex, please," there was something desperate in her voice, and had he not been so frightened he might have felt some pity for her. "Please come lie down I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Alex didn't care, his injuries didn't even hurt, he couldn't feel anything when he walked on his bad leg. Finally throwing her off he raced to the door and attempted to yank it open, only to find out that it was locked. He kicked the door and pulled desperately on the handle, but it didn't budge and eventually he had no choice but to give up. He turned and rested his back against the hard wood staring coldly across the room at the woman.

"Let me go," he demanded a final time.

"I can't," she replied finally. "We need you."

"We?"

As if on cue the handle turned behind him, making him skitter away from the door in fright. He didn't honestly know if he wanted it to open now, if he wanted to know who was behind it and helping this woman in her deluded plot.

Then he saw it as the door swung open, silver blue eyes just like his own and a shock of snow white hair.

"Dad…?"

* * *

It was becoming far too much to take in, Evey had known for a while that there was something going on, but she had never quite expected this. What had perhaps been the most surprising was when her calm, sensible and collected mother had wandered down the stairs in a full on leather ensemble. Through her shock she only just registered the guns strapped to her hips as Trish shrugged on a jacket. 

"Mom?" Evey asked quizzically eyebrows furrowing. Her mother looked as though she had walked right out of a video game. "What are you wearing?"

Trish smiled at the expression on her daughter's face. She couldn't deny that it was good to get back in her old fighting gear, in fact it was exhilarating. Now she was just hoping that she hadn't got all dressed up for nothing.

"Work clothes," she said by way of explanation though it only left Evey more baffled than before. "I'll explain things to you if and when they need explaining." She added seeing that this had not helped her daughter comprehend what was happening in the slightest. She was beginning to understand why Dante hadn't wanted to tell their children what they did. Evey's expression was one of complete confusion she couldn't imagine what it would look like if she told her they were just going to go hunt down some demons. Then again when she saw Dante's office she wasn't exactly going to be comforted by the demon carcasses strewn about the walls.

Trish pulled a set of keys from her jacket pocket and headed for the garage Evey following on her heels. Dante had taken the only car which meant they would have to go on a bike. The journey was fast thanks to Trish's practiced and almost reckless driving. It left Evey little time to think as she clung on tight and tried to keep down her break-fast. The world blurred past in the early morning shades of grey, distorted by the shaded visor of her helmet. She noted that her mother wasn't wearing one, but she had insisted that Evey did all the same.

They turned down a street on the opposite side of town arriving in front of a large building at the end of alleyway. Evey barely had time to register the garish sign before she was pulled inside by Trish. The words didn't make sense to her though her mind threw up many random meanings for it nothing seemed to fit. By the time she was ushered through the double doors of the office she had forgotten all about it in favor of the room before her.

At first it seemed to be normal, maybe a little messy and uncoordinated, but there was nothing uncommon about a desk and chair, a sofa and even an unhygienic array of half-eaten food. But as her eyes slowly traveled over the commonplace items there was the sudden sense of her distorted view and she soon noticed the weapons mounted on the wall, the grotesque trophies strewn across the room, the fresher ones dripping blood.

"Mum… what?" She had just been quite literally pushed down the rabbit hole. She didn't think there was much that her mother could say to her at this point which would surprise her.

Trish, however, was not paying attention, striding across to the desk which governed the centre of the room. Evey followed her quickly watching as her mother brushed aside the cans of beer and pizza boxes making an annoyed clucking sound with her tongue. Evey's eyes wandered over the black telephone and then rested on a photograph at the corner of the desk carefully removed from the pile of rubbish. She reached out a hand and lifted it hesitantly staring at the face in the photograph with confusion marring her brow.

"Mum is this you…?" She asked and half knew it wasn't. The resemblance was there, but there was a subtle difference. The woman in the picture had a slightly rounder jaw than her mother and her hair was a few shades lighter, a relative perhaps, but not the same person.

Trish glanced at the photograph even though she already knew what her daughter was talking about. "No," she answered flatly picking up a scrap of paper from the corner of the desk. "That's your grandmother."

"Is she your mum?" Evey asked now staring at the picture in awe. She had found a part of her seemingly invisible family. Every Christmas when all the other kids in class talked about going to stay with family she had wondered what her relations were like, or where they were. At least she knew of one other member now.

"No, your fathers," Trish answered not looking at her daughter. Something in her chest was twisting like a scar healing around a wound. Every time she thought she was over all that business, when she knew that Dante had come to accept her as her own person there was still doubt in her when she was reminded of the truth. Then there was the troubling question of what her children would have to say on the matter. She wanted to keep it from them, but then again that would be hypocritical when she had been all for forcing Dante to tell them about his past.

"Oh," Evey said hearing the flat tone in her mother's voice. Questions would have to come later she decided setting the picture back down where it belonged. "She's pretty." She added as an afterthought her mind already knowing somewhere that the woman was dead. Maybe that was why her dad never wanted to talk about it.

Trish had cast the first note aside and had quickly found another reading a scrawled address she could barely make out. It seemed to fit though, the others she had found were for places on the edge of town, places she knew from experience were grungy and run down, this address was for an office in the middle of the city. Dante had spoken about a large reward which was why she had pushed him into taking the job in the first place – though now she was wishing that she hadn't – the people who inhabited these other places could not afford such a big pay off.

Maybe that was why they never had much income. Lesser demons were always more likely than larger ones and they stuck to the slums until they got a little more adventurous, the people who lived there couldn't afford to pay someone to get rid of the demons. She knew that as much as Dante pretended not to give a damn he would quite easily become interested in a string of murders if there was something strange or out of place about them. Sometimes no one ever found out what had been the cause of the deaths in the first place, but when they stopped happening people forgot about them pretty quickly.

"I know where we have to go now," Trish announced finally though she wasn't all that certain if she should be taking Evey. If Dante was having problems then was it advisable to bring their daughter into the fray? Not that she could leave her here, or even at home. Not until she was certain both her children were safe. Her train of thought was cut off by the door banging open. She hadn't even heard a car she'd been so busy thinking.

Dante appeared a second later and Evey let out a strangled sound her eyes widening. He was covered in blood; his face was drenched with the stuff even though he had tried to wipe some of it off with his sleeve there was still enough to tell of a serious injury. But he didn't appear to be hurt…

"Dad…?"

She was surprised by her mother's unsympathetic reaction. "What did you do this time?"

"Give me a break," Dante replied brushing some of the caked in hair from his forehead. The tone of his voice was different, it lacked a certain chirpiness that her father always had in his voice even when he was feigning hurt or sadness.

Trish seemed to notice it too, her brows drew together and her eyes grew dark. "What happened?"

Dante had, by this time, made it over to the desk and was resting against it a hand moving up to massage his temples though for once in the past week he didn't feel the onset of a head ache. He just didn't think he could bear to look Trish in the eye when he told her that he had lost their son. No, worse than that, he had helped to set up the trap he himself walked into and now Alex was paying the price. Or '_had_' the idea was a sickening one and he shoved it aside. Castor would at least keep his word until he had the amulet, it was the only protection he had now that Dante was on full form again.

"He took Alex," the words worked themselves painfully past his lips, saying it somehow made it so much more true and far fresher in his mind. He'd spent hours searching for his son when he woke up only to find corpse after corpse and a smattering of human blood. Castor really had done his homework even using those shape changers to convince Alex he had been killing humans. No wonder the kid had run.

"What?" The question slipped from Trish's lips even though she knew the answer. She couldn't comprehend what she had been told, but she didn't think that hearing it a second time would make any difference.

"Trish, I'm sorry, it's my fau-ow!"

She had slapped him smartly on the shoulder where he was certain one of Castor's bullets has shattered against bone – it still ached faintly and he knew that at some point he'd have to cut the shards out – and was now watching him through narrowed eyes. "Don't you dare start that self-pitying crap with me; right now we have to worry about getting him back."

"Thanks for being so considerate," Dante mumbled rubbing at the hurting joint, Trish could hit hard and even a light slap from her hurt. A hint of his usual persona returned briefly as a grin flickered across his lips though it was only for a moment. "Look Castor tricked Alex into bringing him half of the amulet and then took him to that job Castor got me to do. When he saw me he just," his brow furrowed, "…ran."

"Ow!"

"I warned you," Trish stared him out her eyes flickering. "Besides I told you to take the job anyway," her eyes softened, "but for now we have to concentrate on the task at hand. Does Castor have the amulet?"

Dante shook his head and a clump of blood caked hair fell into his eyes. He brushed it back angrily tugging when his hands caught in knots. "No, apparently Alex hid it somewhere, but Castor's given us twenty four hours to find it and bring it to him or…"

He trailed off, partly because they all knew what he was about to say and also because he didn't want to say it in front of Evey. He knew that she wasn't stupid, and she'd seen enough movies to know what a ransom was. Her face was pale now and her cerulean eyes wide, her mouth open slightly as though she wanted to speak, but couldn't form the words. He didn't want her to hear this, he wanted her to be safe somewhere, it was what he had been trying to avoid all these years and everything had blown up in his face.

"I don't see what else we can do," he said finally turning away from his daughter to look at Trish noting how similar their faces were. "I'm not going to risk loosing him again, even if it means putting the world at risk I just can't…"

Evey quirked an eyebrow finally finding her voice. "The world?"

Trish pursed her lips and watched Dante; she knew he wasn't going to say anything even after everything which had happened. "Honey, there's something your father and I haven't quite been truthful about…"

"You're not going to tell me you're secret agents are you?" She asked her eyes darting between the pair of them. "Apart from anything that'd be a total cliché."

She tried humor and it didn't work, the air still hung thickly between them filled with all the secrets which were about to be torn right open. Dante was looking at his feet; Trish was watching him out of the corner of her eye. She wanted him to tell them, he was the son of Sparda after all and in the end he needed to tell her to know that their children wouldn't hate them for it. Alex hadn't known and he'd been led blindly into a trap, there were no excuses now, they _needed_ to tell her.

"Well that's close," Trish said watching Dante. She wanted him to get the hint, but she had a feeling he had and was just ignoring her. She nudged him in his injured shoulder and he finally spat it out. The words came out as a sigh as though he was finally managing to get something off his chest.

"We're demons."

* * *

_A/N: Err a little shorter than normal, but I updated a week later so yep. And hum yes that probably is who you think it is..._


	9. Chapter IX

Chapter IX

Alex stared wide-eyed at the man standing over him. There had been a moment there, a moment when he was convinced that the man was his father now he was certain he wasn't. Despite them looking identical in nearly every way their eyes were different. This man's held a cold look of disdain which made him feel about two inches tall. With that realization everything else quickly fell into place. His hair was different, spiked back except for a slight fringe which covered his left eye, though that by no means diminished the power of his glare. There was a slight scar at the corner of his lip, almost invisible against his pale skin and the air about him was different. It sent a shiver up his spine and forced him back a step.

"W-who are you?" He worked the words past his lips voice shaky. It _was_ his father, they looked exactly the same, but there was something so different about them. Clone? Posessed…? The thoughts flitted across his mind at lightning speed. He wouldn't honestly be surprised by what was thrown at him anymore, he was in wonderland now and probably somewhere far beyond it.

The man didn't answer his question, instead his eyes, or rather eye as Alex could only see one, raised to the woman on the opposite side of the room as he took a step forward pulling the door shut behind him with a resounding click. Despair was the only word Alex could use to describe that sound.

"Vergil," Vivienne's painted lips were stretched into a smile and her eyes sparkled. "I didn't think you'd be here today, it's wonderful don't you think? Now we have a son, and he looks just like you."

Once again the man's cold eyes rounded on Alex though this time he was too shocked to notice them. Vergil, the man's name was Vergil, the name he'd seen on the back of the amulet, the thing which had started this all off in the first place.

"Vivienne I told you not to get too attached to the boy." If Alex had thought the man's eyes were cold then his voice was like ice. It was deep and rang with an air of superiority, but aside from that it was utterly devoid of emotion. Only the glacial look in his eyes held any hint of feeling and that was all anger and hatred, but only when they met with Alex's own, as he turned back to Vivienne they softened to placid tones like calm water on a frozen sea. That was never a good sign; it made ice-burgs harder to locate with no break-water, that was until they were right upon you and by then you were already going down by the head.

"But your brother will hand the amulet over," Vivienne said hesitantly. "You said he would Vergil, there's no need to hurt Alex."

"Vivienne," he said placatingly as he crossed the room to her seemingly forgetting about the boy by the door. "I will do what I can, but I need the amulet. And then when it's finally all over," he brushed a stray strand of red hair from her face. Alex was finding the whole display nauseating, though at least the conversation was bringing a few things to light. The man was his father's brother, most certainly of the evil twin variety and this deluded woman could obviously not see that he was a heartless psychopath. "I can make you my queen," he smiled slightly though it was more of a smirk. She was too wrapped up in the fantasy to notice "Wouldn't you like that? You can finally have everything you want, even the things money can't buy, all that power…"

"I only want you," she whispered and wrapped an arm around his neck, her eyes were almost begging for some from of affection, but he was only watching her callously stiff backed against her hold.

Alex wasn't above making retching noises.

The man turned, glacial eyes sliding across to glare at the boy though he didn't speak. He used the moment to slip out of the woman's hold as Vivienne temporarily forgot the man next to her.

"Alex it's impolite to interrupt people when they're talking," Vivienne scolded though her eyes were soft. He didn't think she was one of those people who could look angry, hurt or sad maybe, but not angry. Maybe it was more of a 'wouldn't' than 'couldn't' somewhere he felt traces of pity for her, she seemed terribly lost and naïve. Then again he wasn't really one to talk about naivety.

"You're my uncle," Alex said finally glowering at Vergil.

"Unfortunately," came the toneless reply.

"And you set this whole thing up," Alex continued eyes narrowing, his hands were shaky and he pulled them into fists.

"Yes," Vergil answered smoothly watching the boy. He was clearly trying to suppress anger and it was an amusing spectacle to watch.

"And you killed my father," he ground out finally. "Your own brother and you killed him!"

Vergil's lips curled into a smirk, it was like a twisted memory of his father's own lopsided grin. "Foolish boy, didn't your father tell you anything?"

Alex swallowed hard frozen for the moment because he didn't know whether to run at the man or in the other direction and with every second his resolve was waning. "Tell me what?"

"A gunshot wouldn't kill him," Vergil answered finally walking back towards Alex in long strides. The heels of his boots thudded hollowly against the polished floor and the tails of the blue coat he wore swished around his ankles. He bent swiftly, removed a knife from his boot and rolled up his sleeve. "Observe."

Alex stared in amazement as he slid the blade across the skin of his wrist. The keen edge bit into his flesh and soon the blood was threading its way down his hand and along his finger-tips. Alex watched with morbid fascination as the sanguine liquid dripped from the man's pale finger-tips and pooled on the floor near his feet. His face was impassive and almost amused. When the knife was slid free Alex's eyes grew impossibly wide, the skin quickly began to knit itself back together until the blood was the only sign of there ever having been an injury.

"How…?"

"I told you," Vergil answered impatiently wiping the blood off with a towel Vivienne had produced from a dresser draw. He'd been too engrossed in the spectacle before him to even see her move. Now there was a look of concern marring her brow even though it was quite clear that Vergil was fine. "Didn't you wonder why your wounds healed so fast?"

"I'm… I'm not…" Alex stared at the man in disbelief.

"It's alright Alex," Vergil said in a scarily calm tone. "We'll be meeting your father tonight and once he gives me the amulet he won't be needed anymore, but," his voice lowered to a hiss; Vivienne couldn't hear the whisper from where she stood a few feet away, Alex could barely hear himself, "first he's going to see me destroy everything he cares about."

* * *

"You're demons," Evey said slowly chewing the words over as she sounded out each syllable. She had thought that there was nothing her parents could say or do which would have surprised her at this point, it turned out she was wrong…

"And you are too," Trish explained her voice soft. "Only three quarters though," she added as an afterthought. "Your father's half demon."

"But demons don't exist," Evey said firmly glancing between the pair of them. Both of their eyes were on her and it was making her feel uncomfortable, but more importantly their faces were deadly serious. Even her father's and that was enough to tell her that this was not a joke. "They're from fairytales!"

Trish had made her way around the table and bent down to the girl's height brushing some of the silvery hair from her bright blue eyes. "I know it's a lot to take in sweetheart, but we're telling the truth. You know you're different from everyone else, well this is why."

"Dad…?"

Dante nodded slowly. "We wouldn't lie to you Evey."

"Yeah like you didn't for the past twelve years," Evey huffed. She didn't know what to think, it didn't make much sense, but then again it did. There was something _strange_ about her family and this would most certainly explain it, though she couldn't help but hide the anger at having such a thing hidden from her. She'd been picked on endlessly for the colour of her hair; maybe if she'd known the reason why she was different she would have somehow been able to look at it as a gift not a curse.

"Evey," Trish's voice was placating. They really did not need this now, but she still wanted to make sure that her daughter was alright. If they'd already lost one child she didn't plan on loosing another.

Evey wasn't looking at her now she was staring wide-eyed about the room taking in all the creatures on the walls, the swords and weapons, which suddenly seemed to make sense. Well it was like everything at the moment, it did and didn't…

She jabbed at one of the fresher carcasses on the wall opposite. "So you don't look like that underneath…?"

Trish smiled slightly though it didn't reach her eyes; Dante still seemed to be brooding and the bad mood didn't suit him at all. The fact that he was worried in the slightest was a strange one. Her father didn't seem to worry about anything ever and that showed how serious the situation had become.

"No we don't look like that," Trish answered. "Those are lesser demons, we're…" She didn't know how to sum everything up in one sentence and she didn't think she had the time to explain everything right then and there. She could probably write a book and more on everything which had happened even leaving out the finer details. "Different."

"You're not making much sense," Evey said crossly. She was beginning to become annoyed with it all and still felt hurt they hadn't told her in the first place. "How come… why is Alex in trouble? Is it because of what you are?"

"Evey…"

"If you had told us none of this would have happened," Evey turned accusing eyes on her parents. Her rational mind told her that in the end it had all been to protect them, but she'd had enough of rationality when everything else was spiraling out of control around her. "Why didn't you do something?"

"I tried," Dante offered finally. "Please you know how much we care about both of you."

"We'll explain it all later," Trish added apologetically. "Everything down to the last detail, right now your brother is in danger Evey, you understand how important it is to get him back don't you?"

She nodded slowly; she had waited twelve years to find out the truth, she could wait another day or two. "Fine," she said softly. She was worried about Alex and she valued his safety far more than anything. "You're going to get him back right?"

"Of course," Trish replied and turned back to Dante who was sitting staring at the opposite wall. "Castor said Alex hid the amulet?"

"Yeah," Dante replied slipping off his bloody jacket and tossing it over the back of his chair, not that his shirt was really in a better condition. "I don't know where he'd hide it…"

"I'll go back and check the house," Trish offered already fumbling for her keys on the cluttered desk. She glanced at Dante and her nose wrinkled. "You'd better go get cleaned up you reek of blood."

"What about me?" Evey asked quietly. She felt very small suddenly, her world had grown impossibly large within seconds and she knew it was going to take some getting used to. Her parents glanced at each other then both turned back to her, despite the situation her father now had a slight smile edging the corner of his mouth.

"I think I have an idea."

* * *

The drawing room, as Vivienne had called it, was just as grand as any other in the house. There was a definite theme of Ivory and gold in the room, huge picture windows filled an expanse of white walls. A marble fire-place dominated the top end of the room and most of the furnishings were a light golden colour, some with traces of white if they were needed. It made the already huge room impossibly larger and the vastness of the place was beginning to worry him; he couldn't remember the way they had come to get here from the room where he had woken up in. Even without all the locked doors he wondered if he could make his way out of the place.

Vivienne was currently sitting on one of the chaise lounges which occupied the room along with the winged chairs and golden coffee tables. She was hunched over a piece of white material sewing, if he didn't know better he'd have wondered what year it was. Aside from her modern hair style and his own jeans and trainers (he'd been allowed to change privately in the bathroom) everything in the room seemed to speak of a far more glamorous time. It made him wonder what kind of a life she'd had. Despite the fact that he desperately wanted to get away something inside him felt pity for her.

She must have noticed his eyes on her for she looked up and smiled, perfect white teeth glimmering behind the red painted lips. "Are you bored Alex? I'm sorry there isn't much to do here, I've never needed anything for children to play with."

He shook his head slowly. By now he knew that asking to go home was useless here. Whether Vivienne knew it or not she was by far the least of his concerns and the last thing stopping him from running away. He needed to escape desperately, before his dad walked into the trap, but he didn't honestly know how he was going to leave this house or where he'd go when he did.

"What are you doing?" He asked at length, because somehow the silence was far worse than when she was speaking.

"Oh this?" She asked brightly holding up the piece of cloth. He could make out a few swirling patterns on it. "It's a blanket." She unpicked a stitch before continuing. "A long time ago I was going to have a child and I started making this for him, but… well bad things happen, but now it's for you."

"I'm sorry," the thought was an unsettling one, but he tried to remain sympathetic. "Why didn't you have another one?"

Her face fell slightly and she looked away gazing out of one of the picture windows at the expanse of garden below. "I couldn't," she shook her head slightly. "That child I lost, I always knew it was too good to be true. We tried so hard paid so much just to have that one child," she sighed. "I can't have children Alex; I had to accept it at some point." It was the most lucid she'd sounded in a while. "I always just wanted to be a family, to have children and watch them grow up. My mother died when I was very small; my father was too attached to his work." Her face brightened a little as she turned back to him. "But it's okay now because I have Vergil and you and we're going to be a family."

She was back in dream-land again and Alex wondered if he should drop the conversation and leave her to it. She had been hurt, that was clear, maybe by a father who loved his job more than his daughter, or by a boyfriend who left her when they found she couldn't have children. She was only going to get hurt again though if she believed that for one second that Vergil loved her or that Alex was going to stick around longer than he had to.

"How did… how did you find Vergil?" He asked finally. He needed to know more about the man, despite her warped opinions Vivienne knew far more than he did.

"Oh well," she paused and bit her lip. "He found me. My father died nearly ten years ago so now I own the family business. I don't know much about it though I leave that up to Castor."

"Castor?" Alex had to force the name from his throat and felt it taint his tongue.

"Yes, he worked for my father before he died, manages the company now, I wouldn't know what to do with it," she said obviously enjoying talking to someone for once. "Well anyway, I met Vergil at a party," she smiled her eyes distant, dreamy. "I'm always being invited to them and normally I don't go, but something told me that night would be different. I guess in the end I was right. He expressed great interest in my father's company, talked a lot about some ideas he had, but I reckon it was all a guise. It was just love at first sight really." She twirled an auburn strand of hair around her ring finger. "He says he's going to make me his queen."

"Queen…?" Alex raised an eyebrow. "Queen of what?"

Vivienne's smile grew and she laughed, the sound was happy, sweet, but it still sent a shiver up Alex's spine. "Queen of the world sweetie."

* * *

"No."

"Oh come on Lady, what do you mean no?"

"I mean no, I'm not a babysitter Dante," her harsh tone traveled down the wire into the receiver and quite literally threatened murder.

"Come on, you have kids of your own," Dante huffed propping his feet up on the desk and rocking the chair back onto two legs.

"Which is why I don't have the time to come down there," Lady pointed out.

"Can't your boyfriend take care of them?"

"Husband Dante, I invited you to the wedding," Lady reminded him crossly and Dante winced slightly. The invitation had come and he'd had to decline the offer when they couldn't find a babysitter. Despite Lady's enthusiasm that he should bring the kids he didn't want to risk them finding out anything. Another stupid decision, though he'd realized that far too late.

"Look I'm sorry about that Lady, but this is really important-"

"And my wedding wasn't?"

Now he knew he'd pissed her off, he also had the suspicion she had a toddler clinging to her ankles from the faint gargled noises he heard. Lady's kids were a few years younger than Alex and Evey, and cute little things. She'd sent a family picture of them all in a card one Christmas a couple of years back. It seemed like a normal happy family, boyfriend – husband – Mark was an Archaeology professor at the local University. He'd helped Lady once with a case and seen it necessary to make sure she never forgot how thankful he was to her for saving his life. Lady had quit demon hunting when her first child was on the way. Now it was just a perfect happy family really. He was glad for her, she could get away from all the chaos of the world he still lived in and he knew that he himself would never be free of it; nor would his children now. It was all he'd ever wanted for them, to just have normal lives and well look how that turned out.

"Lady," he paused and ran a hand through his hair. "Some demons, humans, I don't know what is happening, but they got Alex and now I have to go get him back. I know I haven't been the best at keeping in touch, but if something ever happened to your kids you know I'd be the first one offering a helping hand."

There was silence on the end of the phone line save for the burbled noises of the small child at Lady's feet.

"I haven't touched a gun in over seven years Dante," Lady answered finally. He heard her age in her tone then, she was worn out when it came to hunting. She hadn't and probably didn't want to see another demon for as long as she lived and he half understood that. Now that he'd completed his quest for vengeance sometimes he wondered if it was time to throw in the towel. Then he'd remember how demons had torn his family to shreds and would make the promise not to let it happen to someone else all over again. And there was always the selfish reasons; the thrill of the fight and the thrum in his blood which he couldn't deny he enjoyed.

"I wouldn't ask unless it was important," Dante said softly. "I know how much giving this all up meant to you, but I don't know what else to do."

Lady paused again, she seemed to be thinking and then a sigh echoed through the wires. "I'm going to call Mark I'll be there in an hour or so."

Dante smiled slightly, it'd be good to see her again. "Thanks."

* * *

_A/N: Yes, err I feel this is a bit of a filler chapter, and I'm not sure I handled Vergil's characterization that well... then again he's grown up a little bit and spent some time in the Underworld. And I didn't mean for this to be a whole sorta 'reunion' thing. I was debating putting Vergil in, but Lady was a rather random addition. Anyway yep DMC4 demo out tonight it's so I'm gonna go download it now :D_

_-Lady Luce_


	10. Chapter X

Chapter X

"How am I supposed to know where it'd be? He's your son," Dante muttered into the receiver. Trish huffed and he could see her brow creasing and her lips pulling into a pout.

"He's your son too," Trish shot back holding the mobile phone to her ear with her shoulder as she ransacked Alex's room. She'd pulled all the draws from his cupboards out onto the floor the bed had been upturned, and clothes were strewn across the room, but she still had nothing. "And you were a kid too where'd you hide stuff?"

Dante shrugged. "Under the bed… in the dustbin…" He ran a hand through his hair, it was still wet from his shower and water dripping onto his face every few seconds was beginning to become annoying. "My half of the amulet is still under my pillow," he added as an after thought. It was probably an overly sentimental place to keep it, but it was safe and only Trish knew it was there.

"Yeah I've got it," Trish said quickly though they were both thinking the same thing. They were walking right into a big mess, not only for themselves, but for humanity and once they handed over the amulet there was nothing to stop Castor from not going through with the deal.

"Well if you can't find it come back over here, Lady will be here soon maybe she'll think of something," he glanced over at Evey who was sitting on the couch looking bored. Every so often she would glance around the room or pick a new hole in the moth-eaten sofa. He hoped that she would be alright with Lady, he by no means doubted the woman's ability to keep her safe he just wasn't so sure about how she'd react to being left behind.

Trish nodded at her end nearly dropping the phone in the process. "Okay I'm going to just finish up here. I'll be back soon"

The phone clicked off and Dante threw the receiver back into the holder sighing and leaning back in his chair.

"What's the matter?" Evey asked looking up from where she sat. She wanted to help, but she didn't know what she could do, she didn't completely understand what was going on. Whilst her father had been in the shower it had given her some time to examine the room properly, which basically meant going through all the desk draws and studying some of the weapons. She'd even looked in the fridge only to be disgusted by how un-hygienic her father was without her mother there to clean up after him.

"Your mother doesn't know where Alex hid the amulet," Dante answered staring at the ceiling fan as it sliced the air above him. "It could be anywhere," _and Castor could have already got the answer out of Alex anyway._ The idea was sickening and he pushed it aside. If Castor even dared to hurt his son… "I'm going to check upstairs okay?" There was the very slim chance that Alex had hidden it here, he doubted it, but waiting around like this was killing him.

Evey nodded vaguely as her father headed for the stairs already lost in thought; her eyes narrowed and her brow creased. She was trying to remember everywhere her brother would hide things and couldn't come up with anywhere her mother wouldn't have looked. Unless… she was just beginning to put the smallest snatches of a memory together and the thoughts were eluding her.

She was jarred from her reverie by the sound of someone walking up the front steps and jumped up quickly, heading for the door. It wasn't her mother; at least she didn't think it was Trish wouldn't be back yet if she'd phoned from the house. So it must be her dad's friend, she wanted to meet the woman, and interrogate her before her father came back downstairs.

It was only when her hand was inches from the handle that she realized something. She had over-looked it in her haste, but now it was blazingly obvious, it made her hand shake and her mouth run dry. The steps were heavy, too heavy to be a woman and rung with confident strides that were distinctly masculine. She turned to run, but the door had already burst open, it caught her ankles and sent her stumbling forwards. Evey barely caught herself in time and she only had the chance to suck in a breath before a hand tangled in her hair.

"Dad!" the shout was strained with panic as she was tugged up by her silver locks. She tried to pull away, but was yanked back and cried out again scrabbling uselessly at the hand in her hair. "Dad!"

She struggled madly against her attacker until a hand was wrapped around her shoulders and the cool barrel of a gun was pressed against her temple. When she was finally still she could hear and see again. Around the blood pounding in her ears she heard Dante's footsteps thundering above her and on the stairs, clearing the bottom half of the staircase in one leap.

"You," Dante bit out the word angrily his hands balling into fists though he had barely moved from the bottom of the staircase.

"I've come to collect the first half of your payment, its midday you know," Castor's voice drifted across the room in a languid drawl, his bottom lip curled into a sneer, the shades still obscuring his eyes from Dante's view.

"Where's Alex?" Dante demanded ignoring the man. He was also trying to shut out the terrified look in his daughter's eyes. She had demonic blood in her, in some cases more so than he did, but could he really take that risk…?

"I don't think you're in the position to be asking questions," Castor reminded him pressing the gun a little harder into Evey's skull. Evey grimaced and tried to stop shaking. She was frightened, she didn't understand how people in movies always made it look like a piece of cake, but she really did not want to die. Panic was flooding her as well as confusion, whilst her parents had told her the truth she still felt like she was out of her depth. Why hadn't her dad asked the man to let her go? He wasn't even looking at her he was glaring over her shoulder at he man.

"What have you done with my son?" Dante repeated and made to move forwards. Castor dragged Evey back a step and held her tighter. One foot was holding the door open in case he needed to run – he wouldn't get that far with Dante on his heels, but it was yet another risk Dante wasn't willing to take.

"You'll get him back when you deliver the second half of the amulet to me tonight," Castor answered smoothly. "I'm just visiting now to make sure you remember our deal, and collect a little insurance if needs be." He gestured towards Evey; her face was pale, eyes wide and staring.

Dante's own eyes narrowed and the muscles of his jaw twitched. "Let her go."

"Why would I do that when you still haven't given me what I want?" Castor questioned in that annoying patronizing tone. If he didn't have a hold on Evey Dante would have already torn him to pieces. When the demon slayer was silent the man continued. "The first half of the amulet if you will?"

"That wasn't the deal," Dante growled a hand groped at the air by his hip searching mindlessly for a gun though there was none, they were laid out on his desk. Castor wouldn't let him move that far…

Castor laughed though the sound seemed genuine it was cold and malicious. "Still sore from our little chat last night? You don't like being beaten do you Dante."

"You don't fight fair," Dante snapped back drawing the attention away from his daughter. Trish would be back soon, she could sneak up on Castor from behind, even if a gun-shot wouldn't kill Evey he didn't want her hurt – or traumatized though she probably already was – and was determined not to loose another of his children.

"I don't gamble I win, real men make their own luck, and if you're stupid enough to walk into a trap it's your own fault," Castor answered with a shrug. "And would you look at that it's happened again, I'm a busy man I can't stay here all day."

"I don't have the amulet," Dante answered finally. He didn't know whether he should tell Castor that or not. If he didn't have the amulet there was no reason not to hurt Evey, but there was nothing else he could say and he knew that the man's patience was running thin.

Castor's lips curved into a dissatisfied frown. "I don't believe you."

"I don't have it," Dante replied, hands spread wide.

"Well then," there was the soft click as Castor pulled the hammer back on the gun. Evey flinched and her breathing hitched, her eyes were glassy and Dante could clearly see that she was shaking.

He took a step forwards out of panic and Castor raised his head warningly, Dante could feel the man's eyes staring into his own even if he couldn't see them.

"Let her go," Dante repeated through clenched teeth trying to hide the fear in his voice and failing miserably.

"Dad…" Evey's voice was a broken whisper that barely carried across the room, but Dante's ears caught the small sound. It made his stomach twist and he felt icy fingers wrapping around his throat. Not again, this couldn't be happening again he wouldn't let it.

"Sorry sweetheart," the man hissed into Evey's ear. "Looks like daddy doesn't love you after all."

"Shut up!" Dante yelled. He didn't know what to do, whether to move for a gun or stay still, the decision was made for him when Castor's finger twitched on the trigger. Evey's chest was heaving as she realized what was about to happen. Dante had broken into a run across the room when everything stopped.

The voice was firm and commanding with a hint of mirth to it and there was something distinctly… feminine about it. "Move and I shoot."

Castor swallowed and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"If you kill me you'll never see your son again," Castor threatened though for once his voice was uncertain, eyes sliding to the side behind the dark glasses in an attempt to see the woman behind him.

Dante didn't think he'd ever been more relieved to see Lady in his life. Especially with a gun in her hand, normally it would be aimed at him and he would be required to run and hide for something he didn't even know he'd done. That had been a long time ago though…

"Let her go, she'll get back up again, you won't," Lady's voice was as steady as her hand despite the seven years in which she had never touched a gun.

Dante could see that Castor was weighing up his options, not that he had any. Even if he walked away there was no certainty Lady wouldn't shoot him. Though Dante was pretty sure she'd wait for a signal from him and if what Castor said was true then he didn't think he could risk Alex's safety for the satisfaction of seeing the man dead. Despite the fact that they had him well and truly trapped he still had a few tricks up his sleeve.

"Drop the gun and I'll let her go," Castor answered his voice cool, nerves in check once again. If he was going to die he'd have been dead seconds ago and Dante _wanted_ to kill him after all. He knew the man wanted to rip him limb from limb and had the smallest of suspicions the demonic side of Dante would let him go for the chance to do so later.

"You first," Lady ordered not backing down. "Let her go, put down the gun, then leave and none of this has to get messy."

"I guess you wouldn't want the brat mentally scarred would you?" Castor asked voice bitter with defeat. "As if having murderous demons for parents wasn't bad enough."

"Shut up and get the hell out!" Dante barked vehemently. He'd had enough of Castor and his games.

Lady cocked her gun and that seemed to decide the man pretty quickly. He pulled his gun away, hands up and let the hammer click back into place as Evey raced across the room straight into Dante's open arms. He bent down to accommodate for her height and she buried her head in his shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. She was shaking. He circled his arms around her protectively, right hand cradling the back of her head as he glared over her shoulder at Castor. Despite it all the man was grinning.

Dante wanted to tell Lady to pull the trigger; instead he shook his head slightly and tightened his hold on his daughter instinctively.

"Drop the gun," Lady ordered fiercely and Castor did so after a moment of hesitation, kicking it across the floor to where it stopped at Dante's feet. Lady held the door open, gun still trained on the man. "Now-"

"Wait," Dante's voice stopped her from ordering the man out and there was something harsh in his tone which told her he was seething. Not that she really had to guess, his eyes were blazing and a vein in his jaw jumped. She didn't think she'd seen him that angry in a long time, or ever to be precise.

Dante stood, mindful of the girl still clinging onto him, Castor's gun now clutched tightly in his right hand. The man's face paled a little, but nothing else showed that he was any less calm and collected than he was before. Dante had his free hand wrapped protectively around Evey's shoulders; the other slowly rose to level with the man's fore-head.

"Lady can you take Evey upstairs please?"

The words were as good as any threat Castor's lip twitched and he grimaced, eyes fixing on Dante through the shades. The air had suddenly become thick between the two men and Lady waited a moment then nodded. She didn't know what was going on here, Dante hadn't told her all that much on the phone, but the look in his eyes told her not to get involved.

"Dad?" Evey's voice was quiet as she stared up at her father. "What are you going to do?"

"It's alright Evey, go upstairs with Lady okay?" Dante said placating, eyes still fixed on Castor. He was going to finish this now, letting the man live would be stupid.

Evey's eyes widened as everything fell into place, Castor, the gun… she knew that her dad killed _things_ for a living, but this man was clearly human. He wouldn't kill him in cold blood would he?

Castor arched an elegant eyebrow. "Don't want her to see how right I am?"

The door next to Castor's head splintered and shattered into frayed slivers of wood. He glanced furtively at the ruined wood before fixing his gaze on Dante and the smoking barrel of the gun.

"Lady," Dante ground out. The woman nodded hesitantly and crossed the room to where Evey still clung to her father's waist. She took the girl's hand and gently tried to pull her away, but she held fast.

"You're going to kill him?" The girl whispered still starring up at the man above her. The man she knew, but failed to recognize now. His eyes were sparking an electric blue and his jaw was clenched. He looked like a bull who'd seen red and was about to charge.

Dante ignored her; there was little else he could do. Children were so very innocent and naïve. He'd lost his own naivety at a young age and whilst he'd never wanted the same for his daughter it looked like he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Parents were supposed to teach children that two wrongs didn't make a right, and how to play fair, not how to fight or shoot or kill. The accusation in his daughter's voice was nearly enough to stay his hand, but then he fixed his eyes on Castor and reminded himself that he was the man who had ruined all the dreams of a normal life which he had had for his children.

"Come on honey it's alright," Lady said in a motherly tone finally easing Evey away and half-dragging her towards the stairs. She was still rather dazed from the previous ordeal and it didn't take much to get her upstairs, though her eyes remained fixed on the gun in her father's hand.

"You're willing to risk your son's life simply for the satisfaction of killing me?" Castor asked his pale lips pressed into a thin line. It was a nice change from the sardonic smile he always wore.

"Alex is tough," Dante answered, because he had to keep telling himself that. He had to believe Alex was alright. "He'll survive, you on the other hand…" He was steadily making his way across the room and stopped half way. Castor couldn't dodge now even if he wanted to, and even if, by some miracle, the first shot missed the second wouldn't. "Won't."

Castor laughed; a hollow bark which reverberated around the room. "Maybe you'd be a little more worried if you knew who the master-mind behind this little plot was."

Dante's eyes narrowed. He had never considered that Castor wasn't the ring leader of this whole thing, he seemed too confident, too sure of himself and he couldn't imagine the man working under anybody else. "Who?"

The man seemed to pause dramatically, tension hung thick in the air and once again and Dante felt the man's eyes bore into his own before he answered. "Your brother."

Dante tightened his grip on the gun and swallowed. "You're lying."

"I'm offering you a friendly piece of advice, it's up to you if you take it or not," Castor shrugged, the door had slid closed behind him. They were alone meters apart, Dante was staring at him down the barrel of the gun, his finger itched on the trigger, but for once in his life he wasn't quite sure if he could.

"Now I need to get going, if I don't return-"

"If you're telling me the truth then my brother isn't going to care one bit whether you show up or not," Dante cut across him. "So," he pulled the hammer back on the gun, had the small satisfaction of seeing Castor's mask slip. "Checkmate."

The man yelled something, but it was lost over the sound of the gun going off. One bullet and then another slammed through the man's skull and then he slid to the floor leaving a trail of blood in his wake. His expensive suit was ruined, the shades fallen from his face and smashed on the wooden floor. Castor's emerald eyes were fogged over and staring.

Dante breathed a sigh of relief, and turned away from the bloody sight before him depositing the gun on his desk. Revenge was a bitter taste in his mouth and didn't come with the sense of satisfaction it usually brought. Not that he went about creating vendettas, but Castor was one man he had wanted to see dead. Maybe it was because he still didn't have Alex safe with him or maybe because of the hurt in Evey's eyes when she realized he was capable of killing.

It took him more effort than he would have liked to eventually move and cover Castor's body before taking it to a store-room at the back of his shop. The blood was wiped away hastily, leaving traces still on the doors and floor. As he began to ascend the stairs, the job taken care of, at least for the moment, Lady came down to meet him.

"Where's-"

"Sleeping," Lady answered bluntly and Dante hesitated a second before turning and walking back down the stairs his foot-steps heavy on the wood.

Dante wandered over to his desk and slumped into a chair closing his eyes. He felt worn out again, he didn't know if he'd ever been so stressed out before. Normally things like this, things worse than this, saving the world et cetera; normally it was a breeze to him, but he'd lost all the energy to joke about it all a long time ago.

"Looks like I got here just in time then?" Lady said from above him and he looked up, he hadn't heard her follow him. It felt strange seeing her again after such a long time. She was still the Lady he knew, but the differences were there and stood out against the image he had of her in his mind. Her hair was a little longer, and the faintest lines had appeared on her face around her eyes and mouth. She had aged well, but it was still blatantly clear that she was older. It was her bi-coloured eyes which told him that the most though. They were lively and energetic as always, but beneath the surface there was an age which had been growing there since Temin-Ni Gru. God that seemed like ages ago now…

"Yeah you did," Dante replied softly. "Thanks." Before he might have thrown her some casual remark that he could handle it, before when he was an arrogant kid.

Lady's head tilted slightly and she smiled. She had chosen hunting gear more suited for her age though it was clear that she had more or less grabbed whatever was in her closet which was both practical and fitted. As always she wore a dark pair of shorts nearly hidden by an ammo belts, a form fitting white shirt and khaki jacket. Kalina Ann was slung across her shoulder and a pair of brown leather gloves completed the ensemble. A little slap-dash maybe, but he was amazed that she'd kept half of her stuff, unless she'd gone out specially to buy ammo and guns for his benefit. He'd have to ask her about it later, for once he wouldn't mind paying her bills.

"I was going to say you haven't changed a bit, but I'd be wrong," Lady said her back to him seemingly studying his corpse strewn walls though her mind was elsewhere. "You've finally grown up haven't you?"

Dante shrugged and kicked his chair up onto its back legs leaning back with his head rested in his hands. "If you say so."

"It wouldn't have killed her would it?" Lady asked turning to him. "Being shot in the head?"

"Probably not, but you know I never really thought about testing it out," he rubbed his own forehead in the centre where the phantom scar of a bullet wound was. "And besides it hurts like hell."

A flicker of something like guilt crossed Lady's face. "So what's going on then? You didn't exactly give me a proper explanation on the phone."

"That man, Castor," Dante's lips pulled into a grimace at the name. "He's got Alex and wants the amulet, Trish and I have to go get him back and I'm not about to leave Evey here by herself."

"Couldn't one of you-?"

Dante cut her off knowing what she was about to say. "I was with Alex when Castor got him the first time, I don't know if Trish trusts me on my own now."

Lady's brows knitted, she looked like she was going to speak and then changed her mind. Instead she sat down on the edge of Dante's desk – something she had not done in a long time – and studied his face.

"You haven't aged a day."

He turned to look at her a grin slowly creeping across his face.

"Don't make me hit you," came the sharp warning before he could utter a word.

"What?" He asked his expression immediately changing to one of feigned hurt. "How do you know I was going to say anything?"

"I know you Dante even if you _seem_ to have grown up I am starting to doubt my judgment," she replied though there was the faintest edge of a smile gracing the corner of her lips. It was nice, she had to admit, to be back here with Dante being the idiot he was it somehow made her feel young.

"Whatever," Dante huffed reaching for a magazine and pretending to ignore her though she could tell he wasn't reading because he was holding it upside down. She was about to point out this fact when he threw it back down anyway and let his feet drop from the table. He stood up walked around the room and sat back down again, by the time he completed his third circuit of the desk Lady knew he was worrying. That in itself was strange because Dante didn't worry about anything ever. This was different though, his face might not be showing any sign of age, but his eyes did. Things really did change.

* * *

_A/N: Ah I know seriously probably crappiest chapter in this whole fic and despite being an evil bugger Castor deserved a better send off than what I gave him. Also it ends really randomly. Why? Because I needed to just get this chapter out of the way even if it is terribly written. Normally I'd try and make it better, but it's nearly been a month and if I leave it any longer it won't get any better and it'd just drag on. So forgive me, a mixture of writers block and DMC4 coming out means that my writing is rather sub-par and I probably made hundreds of mistakes TT_

_And well if I was ever worried about them being OOC before DMC4 they're most certainly OOC now. Then again the whole point of this fic was probably to be OOC..._

_Gah I reckon my problem is now that I'm in un-charted land so to speak, as in I have not planned anything from this point and no new ideas are cropping up. So I apologise if I take just as long to write another chapter._


	11. Chapter XI

Chapter XI

This really was turning out to be like a Bond film. Alex had thought that the day his life turned into a spy movie would be the best of his life. Now as he made his way back across the polished entrance hall of Phoenix's main office building he wished that he was anywhere but. Sitting on the couch at home, watching all this on the TV for example. Instead he was back here where he never wanted to be again, with the eerie glow of the fish tank the only light filling the room - storm clouds hid the moon's rays tonight.

In the echoing silence it was easy to hear three pairs of footsteps on the marble floor. One a confident stride, another short and light and the third scuffed and muffled as Alex was half dragged into the room. He had given up being cooperative a while ago and was now doing everything within his capability to make his captors life difficult. Not that Vivienne really needed her life to be anymore difficult. He could hear her sniff or whimper into a handkerchief occasionally, the sounds amplified by the large room.

"Vivienne," Vergil said finally turning to the woman who was desperately trying to stop her eye make-up from running and failing miserably. Alex was dragged round by the scruff of his neck – where Vergil was currently holding his shirt in a death grip; he'd tried to run three times already.

"Mhmm," she nodded and dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her handkerchief.

"Casualties are inevitable in this business," Vergil continued his eyes cold, detached; there was no emotion in them, not even a flicker of remorse for this woman he apparently loved. For once this didn't even cross Alex's mind; he had wanted Castor dead, although he had yet to know how and why he hoped the man suffered. "We have to move on with things now; it is not the time for distractions."

Vivienne nodded again and attempted a smile. "Sorry," she whispered and took a few steps to catch up. She was still wearing an elaborate dress and high heels – Alex wondered if she simply didn't have any normal clothes – she looked like she was dressed for a party, even the same diamond earrings shook in her ears like icicles shivering in a strong wind. She was pretty, Alex had to admit, probably the same age as his mother or younger; she was far more naïve than his mother anyway.

She looped an arm through Vergil's and hugged his own towards her, completely missing the man's look of revulsion or the fact that he was half-suffocating Alex as he dragged the boy towards the elevator. Maybe she just didn't _want_ to see it. Vivienne was happy planning her perfect life out even if the real world was crumbling around her.

When the lift doors slid open with a friendly ping Vergil shoved Alex inside and detached himself from Vivienne long enough to access a new panel on the opposite side of the lift which Alex hadn't noticed before. Maybe it was because he had been too afraid or because it simply hadn't been there the first time. They were taking a different elevator; it could be that this one had a secret panel whilst the others didn't.

As the doors slid shut Alex felt claustrophobia setting in. He'd never shown any symptoms of it before, but there was something about being here in this place… it made him shiver and awoke phantom feelings of fear inside him. He had every right to be afraid now, but strangely he wasn't. Something told him that he wasn't in danger, that his father was going to save him and that it'd be alright again. He couldn't help the memories flooding into his mind though, of blood and death, of monsters and a shadow which was and wasn't his father at the same time.

He leant against one of the cool metal walls as the lift began to drop after a second ping. It moved down floor after floor until Alex began to think that they'd emerge in China. The silence was wearing; Vergil was an ominous presence in one corner, Vivienne, still trying to control her emotions, stood between Alex and he. It was strange how after a few days of chaos one almost came accustomed to it. In truth he wasn't scared anymore. He wasn't sure why, maybe it was because he knew that for now he was safe. They would have killed him earlier if they wanted him dead and for now he had Vivienne to protect him from Vergil and his father would be here soon. He had to hang on to that thought desperately because it was the only hope he had now.

* * *

"Trish should be back by now," Dante said before Lady could ask him what the matter was. He had stopped mid step and looked up at the door as though expecting her to wander in at the sound of her name.

Lady opened her mouth and shut it again; she didn't know where Trish had gone in the first place so she couldn't think of an appropriate way to rationalize the situation. Saying that she was 'certain she'd be back in a moment' didn't really sound sincere. Instead she opted to change the subject, both to distract Dante and to quell her own curiosity.

"If Castor's dead…" her eyes travelled to the bloody stain on the floor then back to Dante. "You killed him right?"

Dante nodded and scuffed his foot against a stain on the floor at his foot. He never normally felt bad about things like this, but there was something niggling at the back of his mind bothering him. "Yeah he's dead."

"Then…" her brows furrowed. "I'm confused I thought you said Castor had Alex, if he's dead…?" She stared straight at the back of his head as though she could force the answer out of him with her glare. "What aren't you telling me?"

He paused and turned away, he couldn't quite get over it himself. Castor had to be lying. There was no way in hell that Vergil could still be alive, it was impossible, he'd seen him die twice – well more or less. If it was true then he doubted he would recognize him anymore. He'd been in hell more times than he would have liked himself and regardless of whether it was their father's home or not no _human_ could survive there. Vergil had died the day he stepped off that cliff into hell, he'd known his brother was lost to him for years now, but the idea that he was here, that he was _living_ awakened a small spark of hope in him.

"Vergil," Dante let his brother's name escape his lips in a sigh. "Castor told me Vergil's still alive."

"And he has Alex?" Lady asked because she couldn't think of anything else to say. She had met Vergil only briefly and the moment blurred with the chaos of that night on Temin-Ni-Gru in her memory. Dante hadn't said much about any of it either, she had known he was sad after loosing him, maybe even in mourning, but he hadn't let it show because that just wasn't how he worked.

"Apparently," Dante swiped some of the hair out of his eyes and continued pacing. He was impatient by nature and waiting like this was killing him. He bit his lip turned and made his way back across the room. "I guess he's holding a grudge," he said more to himself than her. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to believe that Vergil could be so… evil… Even as sworn enemies there had always been some form of moral conduct in their battles. This was far too underhanded for it to be Vergil, but then again hell changed people…

"If you'd have known he was alive you'd have gone anyway, whether he had Alex or not," Lady said, it wasn't a question because she could see it written on his face.

"It was enough to make me go chasing after him before," Dante replied and let out a laugh, it was empty and despairing and directed right at his own stupidity. He made his way back over to his desk and sat down. "Geez I thought life was gonna get easier as I got older you know?"

"Children are a nightmare," Lady smiled knowingly, though she was glad her own children were safe at home. She'd made a reputation for herself in the demon hunting business, but she didn't have nearly the whole demon realm baying for her blood.

"How was Evey?" Dante asked fiddling with a pen on his desk and trying to hide the concern in his voice.

"I think she was upset," Lady replied softly. It had been hard trying to comfort the girl when she had barely known her five minutes. Even harder because you couldn't simply offer up the default phrases one would for normal accounts of distress. They both heard the gunshot, and Evey had buried her head in the pillows of the bed Lady assumed Dante used when he couldn't get up the energy to drive home. Though knowing him he probably simply fell asleep at his desk.

Dante sighed and rested his head in his hands, elbows on the table top. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"You're her father, she'll still love you," Lady offered though the words sounded lame to her own ears.

"Like you still loved your father you mean?" Dante asked sarcastically raising his head to look her in the eye.

It took Lady a short moment to find her tongue. "That was different, he was a-"

"A murderer?" Dante quirked an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth twitched sardonically. "A demon?"

Lady's hand slammed down on the desk. "It was different and you know it!" Her voice softened and she picked at the edge of her shorts, it was frayed where she'd torn them once and sewed them together clumsily. "You have a heart Dante, my father, he was cold… you've just been doing your best for Evey all along, you just want to protect her and she'll understand that eventually."

* * *

"Get the hell out of my kitchen!" Trish yelled and landed a round-house kick to a demon next to her sending it flying towards the back door. Not that there was much left of a back door. She hadn't really expected to encounter any problems on this little trip, especially those of the demonic kind. There were, from what she could gauge, roughly ten of them, maybe closer to fifteen and they'd burst in through windows and doors just as she was about to leave. She'd taken care of a couple in Alex's room and then in the hall making her way methodically back down stairs. She'd never seen this kind of demon before; they were strangely humanoid, awkward but effective and could move faster than she did if she wasn't prepared which was in itself a rare feat.

She flung herself to the side to dodge a flailing arm and squeezed out a clip of eclectically charged bullets. Fighting was second nature to her even when she was out of practice. Trish rolled into a crouch, inched backwards as the table splintered before her and pumped an oncoming demon's skull full of lead. It dropped like a sack of grain onto the broken remains of the kitchen table, there was the faint sucking sound as it tried to draw in air and then it went limp.

Trish nudged it with her foot disgust clearly written across her face. Blood… the whole room; the whole house in fact, was painted with putrid sanguine. She'd just make Dante buy a new house after this was over. It was, after all, his fault that there were demons wrecking her home in the first place and now they had a bit of cash floating around…

Her thoughts were scattered by a popping, hissing sound at her feet. She raised a gun, but soon lowered it again. The demons skin was fizzing, melting away as though acid had eaten into its flesh. She wrinkled her nose and was about to turn away, leave before police arrived, when a distinctly human face appeared amidst the blood and gore.

* * *

A network of passageways greeted them upon exiting the lift. Alex was sickeningly reminded of his night spent negotiating these hallways. He was all healed now from that fight even when a human still wouldn't have been able to walk. He was coming to realize that despite how much he hated the man Vergil might have been telling the truth. 

The endless corridors were making his feet numb. He should run now that Vergil had stopped yanking him about by his collar, but there was nowhere to run. He had long ago lost all sense of direction; he had absolutely no idea which way they'd come. Maybe this place was designed to work like that, to confuse you and trap you, so that only those who were authorized to could get back out again.

He was jolted from his thoughts by a piercing screech and stopped dead in his tracks. Alex knew that sound and pressed himself into the wall as two of those _things_ bounded round the corner at the end of the corridor. He was trying to pull himself together, concentrate his energy so that he could attack, but all he managed was a few useless sparks as he rubbed his fingers together trying to create friction or _something_.

In the end he didn't have to. Vivienne withdrew a whistle from a chain around her neck – it was small, delicate, to anyone else it might have seemed like a lucky charm – and blew hard on it. Two sharp sounds rent the air and stopped the monsters in their tracks. Instead they stood, sniffing the air at the end of the corridor. It didn't make Alex feel any better about them.

"What are those?" Alex managed, because some part of him wanted to know.

"You'll find out soon sweetie," Vivienne replied, painted lips pulling into a smile. She took Vergil's arm again and tugged him gently into action. It was only then that Alex realised the man had stayed silent the whole time. In fact he hadn't moved since Vivienne blew the whistle. Alex watched the man for a moment in confused silence, then he turned icy eyes – eye, he still hadn't seen the man's right eye – on him and began to walk again with short confident strides turning down a branch and leaving the monsters at the end of the corridor.

It made Alex's skin crawl turning his back to them, but he had little other choice. He was safest with Vivienne and that whistle for now. The creatures were forgotten quickly as they entered the next room. It was a vast expanse of clinical whites and greys. The doors they stepped through opened onto a tiled balcony and below them was a huge circular disk glowing ominously. It filled half of the large room, laid flat on the floor, slightly raised on a platform. It was strange, ringed with metal and wires; it belonged in a Sci-fi movie.

Normally he might have asked what it was, but he realized that an answer would not help him to understand any the contraption any further. That and now that they had supposedly reached the end of their journey he needed to start planning a way to escape. They were, after all, alone – well minus those monsters anyway – these two couldn't hold him forever if he really tried.

He took a step back from the balcony and turned slightly to look in the direction they had come. Alex didn't want to return that way if needs be. There was another door to the right, and that was it apart from jumping over the balcony which would most certainly result in death. Vivienne was staring over the marble wall of the balcony with awe filled eyes. She clutched at the whistle about her neck and a faint smile appeared across her lips. Vergil remained impassive, watching the flickering circle with a cold stare.

It took a split second to make up his mind, he turned and ran. Shoved his way through the right hand door and out into the corridor moving blindly and forcing his legs into action. He needed to go up, get back and go up, not hard when he was already heading in the wrong direction and every corridor in this place looked the same. He heard Vivienne screech something behind him as the door banged open.

His nightmares from only a day ago were back as he threw himself into the darkness and mass of corridors which lay beyond. Each fork in the path became a game of Russian roulette as he made decisions blindly, knowing that at some point he was going to come face to face with those monsters. At one fork he hesitated for a second, eyes wild in the gloom, choking on his own panting breaths. It was just a second too long, before he even registered someone, or _something _behind him something cracked across his temple and the world went black.

* * *

Dante drummed his fingers on the desk in front of him, he was itching to move, but it was still light outside and Trish had decided that running in all guns blazing wasn't going to help. They needed a plan, but Dante didn't do plans. Trish had returned a short while ago, with blood in her hair – which she had combed out with a decent amount of complaining. There had been something about demons messing up her house as well, but he couldn't care less what happened to it. His home was here, even if it was nice to have a quiet place to sit away from all this once in a while. Thing was he really didn't feel complete without the sense of normality (or abnormality as the case may be) that his shop held. He didn't think he'd ever been ready for a nice quiet life. He didn't do quiet either.

"Human?" Dante watched Trish apprehensively as she paced. She didn't seem to like that she'd killed _innocent_ people if that's what it could be called.

"Yeah, they were demons, but human," she answered stopping her pacing to look at them both; Dante sitting behind the desk Lady still propped against a far corner. "Like were-wolves are human, I've never seen them before."

"There were some weird demons in that office building where," Dante shrugged and looked down. "Where Castor got Alex. I didn't really stick around long enough to figure out what they were. There was something strange about them though, like they were designed…"

Lady's brow was furrowed in concentration. "You mean like they had intelligent thought behind them? Man-made?"

"Well yeah, but that's impossible," Dante reasoned glancing at her. He knew that tone of her voice, both he and Trish did, she was about to come up with something elaborate and intelligent.

"Not entirely," Lady's voice was hesitant and her eyes narrowed as though she searching for the answer to something. "A while back now, before I met Mark one of my cases lead me to a company, can't remember the name, it was a private company run by an eccentric billionaire. At the time it wasn't a problem, scientists working on demons and their regenerative abilities, supposedly going to sell the information on to pharmacists who would claim it as their own. It was meant for good, they were taking demons off the streets and I never got enough information to track them down so I never looked into it. Maybe I would have if I got the time, but… well…" She stopped and glanced between the pair of them. "You think it has anything to do with them?"

"Well there's only one way to find out," Dante answered reaching across the table for Ivory and checking the cartridge. He'd done this five times in the past hour and hadn't moved from the sitting position at his desk.

"We still don't have the amulet," Trish sighed worry marring her features. She glanced out of the windows of the shop, checked the sky. She wasn't certain what she was waiting for, maybe for her little boy to be returned to her, to come racing through the door safe and sound.

"We have half, I don't even want to hand that over, I just want to get Alex," Dante said determinedly eyes fixed on the reflective surface of Ivory. If it was up to him he'd have been there already, waiting for Vergil, waiting to give him a good old smack in the mouth for even daring to touch his son. It was something he couldn't get his head around; in fact two things, one that Vergil was apparently very much alive and then that he would stoop so low. It was wrong, everything about this was wrong.

"MOM!"

The scream had both Trish and Dante scrambling for the stairs. Lady stood, hand reaching for a gun though she stayed where she was. If demons were attacking then there was normally always more than one, and they could be trying to create a diversion. Demons weren't normally that intelligent, but who knew with these new ones hanging around.

"Evey?" Dante shouted as Trish skidded onto the landing. After all these years he was still amazed that she could run in high heels.

Trish threw the door open, the handle cracking and ricocheting off the adjoining wall with the force. Dante followed two seconds behind her, both ready for a fight only to see Evey sitting bolt upright in bed eyes wide and staring. She obviously hadn't expected that response or even meant to shout in the first place as it was clear she had only just woken up. Trish had electricity crackling on her finger-tips and Dante still had Ivory in his hand.

Evey looked somewhere between confusion and crying. Dante sighed and lowered Ivory resting against the door-jamb. He had neglected to tell Trish that he'd managed to traumatize both of his children in less than twenty four hours.

Trish immediately went into mother mode, extinguishing the electricity between her fingers with a flick of her wrist and hurrying across the room to her daughter. "Sweetie what's the matter?" She brushed some of the snowy hair from her daughter's eyes. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Evey nodded shakily and allowed Trish to pull her into an embrace. She normally pretended to be independent and far older than she really was, but right now she honestly didn't care, her world had been flipped on its head in a matter of hours. Now the pictures of her father with a gun in his hand were haunting her nightmares.

"What was it about sweetheart?" Trish asked still stroking her daughter's hair soothingly. Despite being a demon Trish had developed a motherly instinct from somewhere; maybe it was even stronger for her demonic blood with the urge to fight and protect flowing far stronger in her veins.

The girl didn't say anything; she rested her chin on her mother's shoulder and threw Dante a glare. It hurt him far more than she knew or meant.

"I'll be downstairs," Dante said pushing away from the door-jamb and brushing some of the hair from his eyes. Evey didn't want to see him, she didn't want to know her life was never going to be the same again, and he understood her far too much in that aspect.

"What?" Trish's eyes were confused as she turned them on Dante, she could feel something in the room she didn't understand. Something he wasn't telling her. Her eyes narrowed. "What happened that I don't know about?"

"I'll tell you later," Dante answered non-commitally turning to go when he heard Evey answer for him.

"Dad shot someone," she whispered into Trish's shoulder. She didn't know how to feel about it. That man would have, could have, killed her people like that were twisted, people who wanted to hurt her family were horrible, but no one had the right to take away another human's life. But her parents weren't even human to begin with were they?

"You what?" Trish asked her tone was deadly, but still soft. She was caught between comforting her child and smashing Dante's head against a brick wall. "In front of her?"

"No," Dante started feeling the need to defend himself. This had never really been a problem before, though he understood Trish was more worried about her children than anyone he'd killed or the moralities of it. "Look can we have this conversation downstairs?"

"I'm not a little kid and you said you wouldn't keep secrets from me," Evey was angry now, her eyes blazing as she pulled away from her mother. "I know people die dad."

"I didn't mean to…" Dante stopped when the words ran dry; he didn't know what he wanted to say. "I'm going downstairs." With that he turned into the landing booted steps heavy in the corridor, then on the stairs as the wood protested his weight. It felt like his whole family had turned against him and he had only ever been trying to do what was right for them. He should have learnt a long time ago that anything he tried to do right always turned out wrong.

Lady was waiting when he came back downstairs watching him closely. He knew she was thinking and he'd never liked her thinking when it came to meddling in his personal affairs. She had obviously judged his ill temper correctly because she didn't say anything, simply watched as he sat back down and kicked the chair onto its back legs, resting the back of his arm across his eyes. Life was far too difficult sometimes and he could barely think straight with the worry of Alex on his mind. His blood, the very fibre of his being thrummed with the urge to _go_ to get out and do something, even if it was only wander up and down the street…

He sat for five minutes before he was about to make his way back upstairs again. It turned out he didn't need to when Trish returned. Her face was grim and as her eyes met Dante's he knew he was in for an earful, but it didn't come.

"Evey thinks she knows where the amulet is," Trish announced watching Dante for his reaction. "A hollow tree down the street from our house, her and Alex used to hide things in there when they were kids… I never thought about it."

"You're going to hand it over, just like that?" Lady asked the pair eyes darting between them to read their expressions.

Dante half shrugged, he didn't _want _to, he hated admitting defeat, but if it meant that anything happened to Alex. "Do we really have a choice?"

* * *

_A/N: Yeah another crappy chapter bleh, it feels disjointed to me... It's sorta a filler whilst I just get all the boring smush out of the way so that I don't have to explain something last minute and it seems random. And yeah I know there's still a problem with Vergil, if I didn't post this thing chapter by chapter I'd have edited him out, but we do what we can, I think I've figured out how to fix him :)_

_Oh another random thing I decided to do. I created a forum for DMC challenge fics. Sorta like prompts on LJ, but there's one a month and then people vote for the winner, sound cool? There's one in the LotR fandom so I figured we need one. If people join in it should be fun, but I'll just have to wait and see if it catches on._

_Anyway, reviews encourage me to keep on writing :D_

_-Lady Luce_


	12. Chapter XII

Chapter XII

Dante wasn't certain if it was better or worse that they had found the amulet. Now that they had Alex was saved and the world would, inevitably, be doomed. Being a parent didn't get much harder than this… He knew that if he were an outsider looking in he would be callous enough to say one human should die to save the rest of humanity, but now that it was his child… His own little boy who he'd watched learn to walk and talk, a small miracle in its own right, how could he condemn his own child to death?

In the end the answer was quite simply that he couldn't, screw humanity he'd spent his whole life saving humans and what had they ever done for him? He should be being worshipped, not scraping together cash every month to pay for his double life.

He sighed, brushed the hair from his eyes and glared at his own reflection in the windscreen. None of that was true though, because in the end a heartfelt thank you meant so much more than fame and fortune, and even if he had only his bare hands to fight with he'd carry on saving the world. It was in his blood after all.

Trish flicked the left indicator on, pulled into a narrow road. Collecting the amulet really only required one person to do the job, but they needed to talk as Trish had said which sent panic clawing up Dante's spine. Needing to talk was never a good thing, talking in itself was over-rated and Dante had a feeling they were taking the scenic route so she could drag the conversation out even longer. What was quite possibly even more worrying was that they were almost 'home' now and she hadn't, as of yet, tried to strike up conversation.

"Trish," Dante sighed finally, daring to glance at her. He was wary of her when she was in a mood, he could just _tell_ she was in a mood. He was certain that if his hair weren't white already, Trish's moods and his children's behaviour would have turned it grey by now.

She didn't answer but he saw her hand twitch on the steering-wheel.

"Look," he combed his fingers through his hair, balled his fist at the nape of his neck. "I'm sorry alright?" No answer. He gritted his teeth, tried again. "Maybe I don't go about things the right way, but he was there, no gun, you think I'm just gonna let that bastard walk away after everything he's done?"

Her eyes stayed fixed on the road as they turned another corner.

"Damn it Trish what do you want me to say?"

He was at his wits end, he was about to grab her wrist, force her to look at him even when they were driving when she braked abruptly. Dante's head smacked against the dash-board – he refused to wear a seat-belt – and his hand tore from his hair taking a few snowy strands with it.

"Ouch! Geez would you just tell me-"

The door slammed shut, she'd already left the car and was heading off down the road. God he _hated_ women. If you'd done something wrong you got the silent treatment until you'd apologise for everything in the world just to make them speak to you. He pulled himself upright a head ache blooming between his eyes as he left the car and raced after her. The lights flashed a second later to tell him the car was locked. Trish was holding the keys in her hand though she still hadn't turned around.

He followed her, caught her shoulder and spun her round. "Trish you have got to talk to me right now we don't have the time for you to have a hissy fit."

Obviously not the best choice of words, her eyes narrowed and her lips twitched as though she were about to speak, but then pressed together in a thin line. She pulled herself away and carried on walking, finally spoke.

"I just don't know what to think…"

Oh that was helpful, that made an awful lot of sense. "What-?"

"You're the one who's preaching about protecting them one minute then what? Killing people in front of them-?"

"It wasn't in front of her!" Dante exclaimed falling into step beside her. "What are you implying that I don't care as much as you do? This is petty you know that?"

She stopped, turned to him, threw him a glare. "You've traumatized her! You lost Alex, keeping it all quiet was your idea in the first place!"

"So it's all my fault?" Dante asked finally. He felt betrayed, she was the one who was supposed to understand him and support him and she was blaming him for it all. "Well if you knew I was doing it all wrong why didn't you just say something?!"

She bit her lip and looked down, her eyes shone. That was another thing women did, went from angry to sad in two seconds flat. Then she carried on walking, fast so he had to run a little to catch her up and when he caught her he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm sorry alright," he whispered finally knowing what he was sorry for. That they were both in this situation in the first place, that no matter how it had all happened they had to make this decision now. "We're going to get through this, we're going to get Alex back and we're not going to jeopardise other people's lives to do it."

"But what if… what if he's dead?" She asked her voice quiet. It was the same thought that had been gnawing away at him all day, something he had thought Trish didn't care about - or hadn't thought about. Yet another trait of the female species; they had developed the ability to hide their emotions to a level that it became mentally damaging.

"He's not dead," Dante replied certainly… he'd know if Alex was dead wouldn't he…? He'd just know… "He's not dead because…" his mouth worked to search for the words and it took a while to find something encouraging to say. "Because if he is I'm going to make everyone responsible think ten years in hell is a walk in the park."

Okay so not exactly encouraging, but it made him feel a damn sight better. "We'll get him back alright? Trust me. I know everything's messed up-" _and most of that's my fault_ "-but I'm going to straighten this all out. I am 'the son of Sparda' after all."

Trish smiled because she knew he hated the way every demon they came across seemed to refer to him that way. He'd been hunting for all of his life and he still, apparently, didn't measure up to his father. Or the demons just couldn't be bothered to learn a new name.

"Well then I guess we have nothing to worry about," Trish replied sarcastically. "The son of Sparda has only almost got himself killed…" she counted on her fingers, "seven times is it now?"

Dante's eyes narrowed. "Eight actually."

"So you go save the world and I'll make sure all the pieces are put back together afterwards?" Trish asked smiling, because that tended to be her job nowadays when only Dante went out on missions and she had to listen to him griping about it for days afterwards. He liked attention and she didn't mind listening, or pretending to listen whilst she read a magazine discreetly.

Dante half grimaced half smiled. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

"You can't abandon me that's not fair!" Evey protested glowering at her parents from the beaten up couch she was currently sitting on. She didn't even want to think about what food had been ground into it over the years…

"We're not abandoning you honey, we just can't take you with us, it's dangerous," Trish reasoned, she was sitting on the opposite sofa, attempts to sit anywhere near the girl had been met with a death glare so Trish backed off a little. She knew how to handle her daughter when she was cross. Dante had stayed silent the entire time, leaning against the wall and watching the sun set through the long windows of his shop. Everything was tinged a dark browny green because of the dirt caked into the glass. Things really did fall apart when Trish wasn't here ordering him to clean up.

"You'll be fine here with Lady alright?" Trish tried to reassure her daughter, eyes darting towards Lady where she still rested against Dante's desk. She had been sitting on the couch with Evey when the pair returned, but moved away not wanting to intrude on matters which didn't concern her. Not that she could exactly stop herself from overhearing.

"But…" Evey's words dried up when she knew how futile I was to protest. She _knew_ it was dangerous; she didn't need her mother to tell her that. "I can help."

"You're thirteen years old," Dante said finally, he wanted to go, he hated leaving her like this, but they didn't have much choice.

"Fourteen," she snapped back glowering at her father. "I'll be fourteen tomorrow."

It wasn't like Evey to be difficult, that was Alex's job. "You're still a kid," Dante replied. "You're too young for all this, maybe when you're older… Look we have to go."

Trish caught his eyes, it was quite clear she didn't want to leave Evey whilst she was angry like this. There was always the very small chance they wouldn't come back.

"Your father's right honey, we'll see you later okay?" Trish whispered moving across the room to hug her daughter. Evey was reluctant at first, but then she wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and held on tightly for a couple of moments until Trish pulled away and placed a kiss on her forehead.

Dante was apprehensive at best as he took a seat on the sofa next to her. His children liked to take their anger out on him normally, but he had really done it this time…

"Evey…"

"Just go Dad," Evey said hotly. "Go save the world that's what you do right? Even if you have to kill a couple of people along the way it's all for the greater good."

Dante's brows furrowed, he didn't want to leave her like this with her hating him. Trish was waiting by the stairs now, they should be going… He had never been very good at being sentimental either… "Evey you're my little girl alright and I'm sorry, but I was just trying to protect you. I never want to see you get hurt."

"Evey-"

"Just go dad," Evey said again, folding her arms and looking away from him. This wasn't fair, her father wasn't supposed to be a murderer, her brother wasn't supposed to be lost, this wasn't _supposed_ to happen.

"Please…"

"I hate you, leave me alone!" Evey yelled sapphire eyes sparking. "Everything was so much better before you messed it all up." She stood up, Dante tried to catch her arm and she slapped his hand away eyes bright and glistening. "Don't touch me," her voice was a harsh whisper; there was more anger in it than Dante thought was possible coming from her. "There's blood on your hands."

She turned then and half ran back upstairs; Trish thought she caught the sound of a choked back sob as the girl went past. She wanted to follow her daughter and make sure she was alright, but they didn't have the time for that now.

Dante stood momentarily stunned and then collapsed back into the sofa with a sigh as a door somewhere upstairs slammed shut. He'd been called a lot of things in the past, people had said far worse to him and normally he brushed it off, but coming from her, his own flesh and blood it made something in his gut twist. Even if they saved Alex had he lost one child anyway?

"Dante?"

He closed his eyes, massaged his temples with his hand and then pulled himself up. They didn't have time to work on those issues now, and he couldn't dwell on them now either.

"She doesn't mean it you know," Trish said offering him his coat, her eyes sympathetic. This was what he had been trying to avoid all along.

"Yeah," Dante nodded slightly though he wasn't so sure. He forced a smile, took his coat and shrugged it on. Guns next, on his desk, he made his way across the room, snapped the holster into place about his waist. Their weight against his hips was natural, reassuring. He turned to Lady.

"You'll be alright with her won't you?"

Lady smiled and nodded. "Can't be worse than my lot."

"I guess we'll see you later then," Dante replied turning towards the door.

"Yeah, go save the world," Lady joked watching him. Dante was still the same, his eyes lit up at the idea of a fight.

"It's what I do best," Dante grinned turning back to her with a mock bow, his other hand reaching out to catch Rebellion expertly as Trish threw the sword to him. It would have probably crushed a normal human, but he caught it with ease, swinging the sword over his shoulder. He straightened up, brushed past Trish and headed for the door. Despite the jokes this was deadly serious. For once it wasn't just about the world, this time it was about his kid and no one got away with hurting his family.

* * *

The whole place looked different in the dark; Dante had visited and left this place in the light both times. It couldn't really be called dark, city lights lit up the street and neighbouring buildings, but there was still something about the night. Phoenix had something different about it, something modern and ominous. If those creepy run down castles and haunted houses ever decided to update this would be it. There was a certain aura around it which came with evil and other black magic. He should have noticed it before.

Trish pulled the convertible up onto the curb – it was _his_ car, but she insisted on driving – and switched off the ignition with a click. Dante was quick to leave the car this time, heading for the building's over-sized double doors. Then he choked as Trish caught his collar and yanked him back a step.

"What do you think you're doing?" She sounded cross, he didn't know why; he couldn't conceive how he had possibly done anything wrong within the space of thirty seconds.

He turned back to her rubbing his abused Adam's apple, which has been unceremoniously jerked to the back of his throat. "Err going to save our son maybe?"

She raised an elegant eyebrow, arms crossed and gun in hand – why she didn't get holsters for the damn thing he'd never know, but it gave him less time to think about dodging if she saw it fit to turn her aim upon him. "Just like that?"

Dante paused, forehead creased; she was trying to send him some message which could only be deciphered by others of the female species. Women spoke in code and Trish was no exception to the rule. "Yes, just like that, I like just like that, nice and simple."

"So you're just going to run in all guns blazing and tear the whole place down, tipping off anyone who might be listening and waiting?" Trish repeated herself, expanding her point because Dante was having trouble getting the message.

"That's how it normally goes yes; do you have a problem with that?" Dante asked nonchalantly preparing to carry on again when she grabbed his arm with her free hand.

"I have a problem when it's _my_ son in danger," she snapped, he could hear the warning in her tone. "That place is probably filled with surveillance cameras if we just walk right in through the front door we're walking into a trap."

"Well what do you suggest? That we scale the side of the building and climb through an air-vent?" Dante shot back. He was beginning to remember why having Trish along on missions was not a good idea. He enjoyed the company when it was a nice straight-forward job, but things like this they could never agree on. He'd have to burn all Trish's spy novels when she wasn't looking.

Trish frowned then shrugged. "No."

"Well then lets do it my way," Dante replied and was about to set off again when she caught him, pulled him round again expression serious.

"You'll be careful right?"

"I didn't know you cared so much."

"I meant with Alex," Trish answered shortly. "Dante if you do anything stupid-"

"Hey he's my kid too I think I know how to look after things," Dante cut in feeling a tinge of annoyance though he couldn't tell whether it was directed at himself or Trish. She didn't trust him with things anymore, or at least not completely…

She gritted her teeth and let go of his arm. "Look after yourself too okay? You're no good to me dead. And well whoever's behind this they're playing with us, don't let feelings get in the way."

"I'll be fine, this is normal, I deal with this shit all the time it's what you come to expect from demons."

He gave her an encouraging smile, because he knew she was feeling the pressure, they both were. As _normal_ as killing demons was to him there was something very different about this. Trish was right, if saving Alex made him loose his head…

Dante turned away, gave her a wave. "I'll see you inside."

Trish nodded and headed off to the side of the building intending to 'sweep the area' before catching up with Dante. Back up was always good, surprise back up was even better because it always arrived just when you needed it. At least that was the plan.

* * *

A couple of hundred floors, who knew how many corridors… this was getting frustrating. He'd sort of expected to walk into a trap as soon as he went through the door. So either Vergil was once again playing with him or he was being too stupid to find said trap – so that he could unknowingly wander into it – in the first place.

Back in the entrance hall he rested against the reception desk trying to think. Had they got the wrong place? He was pretty sure he heard what Castor said though it was somewhat hard to tell when he'd been slightly out of it at the time. Unless killing Castor had somehow compromised the situation? He didn't think it could have, he knew Vergil he wouldn't give a damn about whether some human lived or died and in the end he still _needed_ the amulet. Dante's hand reached up inadvertently to clutch his own one; the other half was in his pocket. He was going to trade the whole world for his son and then he was going to kill Vergil one final time.

That was if he could ever figure out where the hell they were. He brushed the hair from his eyes irritably, circled the reception desk and contemplated the fish swimming through their artificial reef for a moment before turning back to face the main entrance hall.

When he did he had to do a double take. Standing in the middle of the room were probably just under thirty of those _things_. He didn't know how long they'd been there, but he'd never heard them enter the room. He had to admit they were bloody creepy and he'd seen lots of things which could be defined as such. Flat feet planted firm on the floor and wiry skeletal bodies hunched over so that their foot long fingernail-like claws almost scraped the marble floor. Their head and shoulders seemed to melt into one, leathery skin showing dark pinkish grey scales. Maybe what was the most disconcerting was the way they all _stared_. Their eyes were bulbous and dead, never blinking and without pupils either, just _staring_.

And now he was frozen staring back at them wondering what to do. Sure he could handle a few of them and open spaces made it easier to dodge, but this many when they moved so fast and weren't really his number one priority. Tough decision, these things could wear you down a bit if you had do chase after them simply to land a hit.

So if he moved towards an elevator and slipped inside before they had the chance to reach him. Unless this was the trap he was supposed to be walking into? A hand inched to the side, pushed his jacket away and hovered above a gun. Alex was his one and only priority right now, but running around in circles like before hadn't exactly been productive and fighting these things in the corridors wouldn't be fun. His fingers closed around Ivory's handle and he slid the gun free slowly. Who knew maybe they'd just stay nice and still for him… awaiting their execution… like humans lined up in front of a firing squad.

_Shit._ Talk about good timing, why did his sense of morality have to kick in now? These _things_ were human, were they lost forever of was there a way to turn them back? Maybe before he wouldn't have cared, before the look of horror on his daughter's face when she knew he'd killed a man.

He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and then something smacked into his shoulder and he was thrown across the room Ivory slipping from his hand to skid across the floor. Loosing concentration was one of the simplest mistakes to make, how could he be so stupid?

Dante slammed into a marble pillar, the back of his head cracked against the wall and he ducked instinctively as a clawed hand swiped at the space where his head had been. He lashed out with his feet, knocked the thing over and was caught between reaching for his sword or guns before he had to dodge another blow.

He pulled himself backwards, drew Ebony though he wasn't entirely sure if he intended to use it. The creatures were moving forwards awkwardly, some stumbling forwards, others sprinting across the room too fast for a human eye to see. It seemed that these things were only steady on their feet when they ran fast. Dante side-stepped an awkward swing, feeling a thin claw rake across his cheek, landed a swift kick to a creature's shin, pulled back to avoid another blow. They were pushing him into a corner and with his sense of morality interfering with his normally trigger-happy offensive he could see a problem arising.

His eyes scanned the room as he dodged another flailing arm, threw himself past a demon, having to remind himself not to squeeze Ebony's trigger as he ducked by. This was so _stupid_, he was going to end up killing _something_ tonight so now was not the time to be worrying about it. One of the creatures flew at him out of nowhere, threw him backwards into the wall a clawed hand driving through his shoulder deep into the marble beyond. Pain flared there for a moment then he twisted and drove the thing down, breaking it's thin claws with the movement. He tore himself free – leaving the claws imbedded in the wall – and finally fired as another came racing towards him.

The creature dropped mid-stride and the gun-shot echoed around the room, silent save for the hisses and clicks these things spoke in. There was a brief moment when he couldn't remember deciding to pull the trigger and then he was moving again. Thirty odd of these weird creatures suddenly put on the offensive by the fact that their pray had a sting. He needed to get away now.

_The elevator_. He tore back across the room, swiped Ivory from the floor, aimed, this time to fire at the lift's call button. It broke the small silver box with a spark and the sound of metal screeching, but the numbers on the dial above the elevator were already dropping. He was nearly there - the lift doors slid open with a ping – and then he tripped and slid across the floor, his jaw connecting with the hard marble and blood flooding his mouth. Running was most certainly not his style.

Dante had pulled himself up to his elbows when two of the things landed on his back, sent him crashing back into the floor below. He had barely enough time to gather his scattered thoughts before fire tore through him, three claws in his thigh, two in his right arm, another straight through his neck narrowly missing his spinal cord. He gagged on blood, saw it spatter the marble below his face and then pulled himself onto his side, kicking out with his un-wounded leg. One was dislodged as he moved, skidding backwards across the floor. Dante barely blinked as its claws tore from his flesh, he reached behind him for Rebellion and flipped the second creature from his back with the blade choking as fresh blood bubbled up from the back of his throat.

He scrambled gracelessly to his feet, nearly slipped as they tried to drag him back down again with sheer numbers and threw himself into the elevator. His palm smashed into the control panel, lighting up keys and breaking a few. The elevator pinged again and the doors began to slide shut. Far too slowly; Dante drew Ebony and Ivory, opened fire at anything which dared to enter his small sanctuary.

When the doors finally slid closed he holstered the guns and let out a breath, leaning back against the wall. He didn't know how many he'd killed; he didn't know why he cared. He glanced warily at the screen above the control panel and did a double take. The floor he had chosen read B1, an option which he had never seen before. Well that was a positive sign, unless there were more of those things waiting for him when the doors opened.

There weren't, he slipped out into the dimly lit corridor cautiously. White, the walls were white, and he could already smell the all too clean scent of disinfectant. There was the hum of machinery and electronics somewhere far off, though he suspected this whole place was wired with the latest technology.

He didn't really need _more_ corridors right now, he still might have completely the wrong floor, just because this level was being concealed didn't mean there was anything down here. He'd found his way here purely on accident and he was certain other's would have done the same.

Dante picked a corridor and made his way along it feeling something like uncertainty clawing up his spine. He didn't like it here. This place was designed like an asylum, a tangle of corridors and sealed doors all designed to keep something in. What that something was he didn't know, but he had a feeling he'd find out before the night was over. That was if he ever escaped this confused maze, and the hard ugly white of unnatural light which haunted each passage.

The red eye of a surveillance camera followed him as he travelled down the corridor. He drew a gun, took out the camera with a click and a bang, he didn't even need to think about aiming. Trish would have told him off for giving away his position, like the camera hadn't already been doing that. Then again if no one was watching the cameras then the gunshot would have told anyone down here where he was. Good, he was ready to kill something other than those _things_.

Nothing came though and he was left untroubled as he moved through the corridors. Most of the doors he came to were locked. He had to back-track a couple of times, but soon he couldn't actually remember which way back actually was. He was ready to scream, if he'd thought waiting was bad it was even worse when you were _searching_ and couldn't find anything. Alex could be dying whilst he was lost in this stupid place. He punched a wall, leant against the opposite one. His adrenalin had kicked in when he was first mobbed in the entrance hall and the beat was still thudding away inside his chest. For once in his life that adrenalin was tinged with fear. Not for himself, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been _afraid_ of anything. In fact if he ever did feel fear it was for someone he loved, someone he knew was in trouble, someone he felt powerless to help.

Dante pushed himself away from the wall, stared in each direction until the corridor became a blur of white. His amulet slid against his chest, he griped the chain tightly.

"Hey you want this?!" Dante turned and shouted into the empty passageway. He'd had enough of this game. "Then come and get it!" He raised a gun, let off a round into the ceiling. Then the place fell back into its alien quiet again save for the hum in the distance. No one answered his call and Dante gritted his jaw, carried on walking.

The door at the end of the corridor was locked, his eyebrows drew together and he aimed a gun at the lock, squeezed the trigger. The metal shattered into splinters and he kicked hard at the wood. Once, twice and the door swung open. Yes, all guns blazing worked just fine thanks.

Dante moved cautiously into the next room, expecting something to leap from the shadows and attack him, but nothing did. This room was different; it was dark, lit by a dim green glow which emanated from the centre of the long room. He lowered his gun, made his way slowly around the edge of the room, eyes fixed on the glowing light in the middle. Huge cylindrical tanks lined the centre of the room. They looked like they belonged in some sci-fi movie. Wires connected them to whirring computer screens, flickering green with codes no human could possibly hope to decipher. Most of the tanks were empty, and he carried on down the line wary of what he might see.

At the end of the room two tanks actually had occupants. The first was one of those things; Dante drew back in disgust, eyeing the thin gangly body with distaste. They were _made_ here; they had been created by something for some reason. The idea that someone would actually want to create these things sickened him. As if they needed more demons in the world, and worst of all if these were designed, if they evolved, created something powerful… Humans could be just as bad as demons sometimes.

By the time he reached the final tank he knew what he would see. A human or what had once been one, grotesquely disfigured and still changing, its skin writhing as though worms crawled beneath the decaying flesh. He swallowed down the bile in his throat, turned away. Was this metamorphosis only reversible through death? Was there a cure? He would make sure that he found out before the night was over.

The door at the end of the room was locked, something which was quite easily altered. Dante blasted a second door open, then a third at the end of a short corridor… and stopped dead in his tracks.

Dante was so surprised by what he saw he nearly dropped his guns. The room was a small dimly lit square, four vacant walls and a tiled floor. A small form lay crumpled in one corner.

"Alex?"

Dante's movements were jerky and rapid as he made his way across the room, jammed Ebony and Ivory into their holsters, dropped to his knees by the unconscious form. Blood, it was the first thing he noticed as he pulled Alex into his lap, it bloomed across the boy's temple, clung to his hair and cheeks like tears. The clothes he wore were torn in places, bloodied, the viscid liquid sticking to his skin.

"Damn it," the words were a harsh whisper; he wished he could shout them, he wanted to break something. Someone had hurt his kid, his little boy, and he hadn't been there to protect him. He was breathing though, Dante's heart seized as he watched the slow movement as Alex's chest rose and fell. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding then reached a hand out to hesitantly brush some of the golden hair from his son's face.

"Alex," Dante said softly pulling the kid further into his lap, supporting his head as it lolled. "Alex, come on wake up, it's your dad, wake up."

Alex's hands were tied with masking tape, if the boy had known his full strength it would have been a useless restraint. It didn't look as though he'd struggled against the bonds; he'd probably been tied up after he was knocked out. The idea made Dante feel sick and he tugged at the black tape with one hand until it snapped free.

"Alex, wake up, it's okay now I'm here I'm going to get you out of here," Dante didn't know if he was trying to reassure himself more than the boy seeing as his words fell on deaf ears. He continued stroking the hair from Alex's pale face. He was too stunned to move right now and he wanted Alex to wake up. He _needed_ to know that he was okay.

He was nearly at his wits end when Alex's breath hitched. Then he coughed and gasped and his eyes flickered.

"Alex?" Dante's voice was tinged with hope; he combed his fingers through the pale gold strands again. "Come on, it's safe now I promise I'm here." _I won't let anyone touch you ever again._

"Dad?" The word was starved, faint, but it was enough.

"Yeah," Dante nodded, pulling the boy tighter to him. "It's me."

The boy's eyes finally opened, brilliant blue orbs gazing up into his own. "No."

"What?" Dante's brows furrowed in confusion as Alex tried to squirm away – pull himself up.

"No dad you can't be here," Alex hissed his voice panicky, he was shaking, Dante didn't understand.

"Alex, its okay now, nothing's going to happen to you," he tried to placate the boy, but Alex slapped his hands away.

"It's not alright," Alex would have been shouting if his voice wasn't so hoarse. "They wanted this to happen, you have to get out."

"Who-?"

Dante didn't get to finish his sentence. A needle dug into his neck, pumped something into his veins. He yelled, more from shock than pain. One hand clawed at the plunger, the other wrapped protectively around Alex. His vision was going dark around the edges and his thoughts were running into tangled knots.

He shook the assailant free, heard a cry and let Alex go as he swung around to throw a punch in the direction of his attacker. Instead of landing his target he collapsed sideways, sprawled onto the floor. The air was forced from his lungs on impact, he tried to push himself back up and his arms slid out from under him. Dante was loosing feeling in his finger tips and toes, his head swam and his vision was blurring as he forced his eyes to focus. When he next tried to pull himself up a booted foot came down on the back of his neck. His jaw hit the cool tiles, forced his teeth up into his tongue as blood rushed into his mouth. The foot at his neck ground him mercilessly into the floor, he couldn't force his limbs to move to fight back.

"Having fun down there, little brother?" The sneer was unmistakable even after all these years.

Dante craned his head to the right, eyes strained upwards though he knew what he would see. "Vergil."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the slow updates. Err I didn't read this through apologies for mistakes, and err I'm not saying any more about it because my negative attitude is bad. Thanks for the reviews!_

_-Luce_


	13. Chapter XIII

Chapter XIII

"Vergil," Dante ground out around the blood in his mouth, his head pounding, clogged with whatever junk was slowly invading his system.

"And I was afraid you'd have forgotten me," the sarcastic reply came as Vergil leaned over putting more weight on his foot and consequently more pressure on Dante's neck. His brother still looked the same, pale skin, thin lips, eyebrows drawn together in an ever-present frown; the only thing which was different was his hair. It hung down in his face on one side obscuring an eye from Dante's vision. That was strange enough to make him stop and think – even in this muddled state – Vergil had pushed his hair out of his face from a young age mimicking their father, but Dante knew that hair hanging in his face irritated the hell out of him; anything that got in Vergil's way irritated him.

"So," Dante tried for a casual tone even as his cheek was ground into the floor. "What's with the new do Verg trying to look more like your dear little brother?"

Vergil didn't respond.

Dante licked at the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Don't suppose there's any chance of letting me up any time soon?"

"And why would I do that Dante?" Yet more pressure was applied to his neck, threatening to snap his spinal chord. "When I have you right where I want you?"

"Last time I fought you Verg you believed in a fair fight," Dante shot back. He was desperately trying to remain cool, but it was becoming impossible. Aside from the very apparent effects of whatever he had been injected with – he wasn't certain he could feel his hands now and bright spots invaded his vision – his worry for Alex was almost killing him. He didn't know where he was, he couldn't hear him at all, he would have half expected the boy to try something stupid like attack Vergil, but there was nothing.

"Things change," Vergil replied swiftly, his tone bored. "This whole thing is getting a little clichéd don't you think?"

"What you trying to raise hell and me kicking your ass?" Dante quipped, a grin spread across his bloody lips. He tried to move an arm; he could barely lift it a centimetre, all he felt was pins and needles. The muscles weren't working as they should, they felt heavy and lifeless. _Shit._

Vergil's eyes narrowed and the corner of his mouth twitched. "I don't have time for your foolishness today."

That was the only warning he got, there was a sibilant hiss and then a visceral squelch as a keen blade split his skin and tore through a lung. The floor beneath him cracked on impact. Alex cried out then the only sound Dante could make was a quick intake of breath. He was finding it difficult to breathe – and that was before he had a sword hindering his respiratory system. Blood rushed into the back of his throat, the smell of copper tainted his mouth and sanguine liquid painted his lips a deep red. He felt it choking him, pooling on the floor beneath him, matting his hair and sticking to his cheek.

"Alex hold still," the voice was a woman's soft and lyrical, she failed in every way to sound at all commanding. He didn't know how she was managing to keep a hold of him, but then again Alex didn't know how strong he was and he had a rather nasty head wound.

"Dad," his voice was muffled, Dante didn't know what by, he couldn't turn his head to see.

Dante drew a deep breath around the sword in his back and the blood in his throat. He tried to trigger, he couldn't, his mind wouldn't focus and all his energy was concentrated on healing, staying awake. "Let him go," he locked eyes with his brother stared into the calm blue. His own eyes burned with anger and something far beyond that, a hatred born out of the very real horror that, if Vergil wanted, he would see Alex die. "This is between you and me."

Vergil quirked an elegant eyebrow. "Let him go to wonder the corridors and be devoured by some of our pets?" His eyes flickered across to Vivienne who was fighting to keep a hold of her captive. "Well if that's what you want…"

"No!" Dante shouted voice strained with sudden panic. He swallowed it down into his throat along with a mouthful of blood. "You bastard if you touch one hair on his head-"

"Then don't complain, he's perfectly safe with Vivienne," Vergil admonished. Dante could only glare. How, how was this possibly his brother? Vergil valued honor, his pride forbade him from doing anything so underhand. "That is unless you choose to misbehave then I can no longer grantee his safety."

Dante's mouth twitched, his breaths were short sharp and angry, his eyes were blazing. "I am going to kill; I'm going to beat you just like las-_argh_!"

The threat was turned into a growl as Vergil wrenched the sword from his back. The pressure was removed from his neck and Vergil took a step back, crouched down to his height. "What are you waiting for then?"

Dante scowled, teeth clenched. His hands slid uselessly on the floor, slipped away from him. He managed to raise his head an inch, turned slightly attempting to see Alex, Vergil sent it crashing back down to the floor. This time his left cheek came into contact with the bloodied tiles. The world swam before him, but when his vision cleared a little he could finally see.

Alex was being held by a woman who looked like she was dressed for a formal event. Her red hair was slightly knotted and her eyes were troubled as she pinned Alex with a blade to his throat. From the way her hand shook it was clear she was not used to such things. The boy held perfectly still now, his eyes were wide and staring, his breathing quick and erratic. It looked as though he were the one who'd been stabbed through the chest.

"Not so great are you now Dante," Vergil hissed leering at him. "But as fun as this is I think it's time to get down to business don't you?"

Vergil leaned forwards, slipped a hand under Dante's shirt collar and gripped the heavy chain. Dante wanted to fight back, but he couldn't make himself move. His ears were buzzing, he could barely see and even though the wound in his chest had healed he couldn't breathe. His muscles were lax and useless, his body was shutting down by itself, he could barely keep his eyes open. Vergil yanked his head up by his hair, drew the amulet over his head and let go, Dante's cheek splashed back into the pool of blood.

"Now where's the other one?" Vergil asked his eyes hovering over the blood red jewel in his hand before flicking back to Dante's face.

Dante swallowed hard, it was in his pocket, but he wasn't planning on telling Vergil that. He stayed silent trying to catch his breath, willing his body to move though nothing would obey him. He was certain it was mere strength of will which stopped him from passing out.

"Do we really have to do this the hard way?" Vergil asked in a condescending tone, eyes bored. "Can't you just accept that you've lost."

"Go to hell," Dante spat overlooking the irony of his statement. He drew a deep breath to clear the spots from his vision. It took far too much effort simply to breathe.

"You're dying Dante," Vergil hissed grinning down at him. "This stuff will kill you and if you don't hurry up Alex will be left all alone in this labyrinth." Vergil smirked, raised a questioning eyebrow. "Unless you'd like me to kill him for you now and save you the worry?"

Dante drew in a few sharp, furious breaths through his nose, "Trish has it." It was a lie; it was all he could think of.

"You mean that disgrace to mother's memory?" Vergil asked his voice icy. "I'd have thought you'd have more taste Dante instead of going after that demonic whore."

"Back off," Dante ground out though his voice was nearly lost under an angry sound which came from across the room. This caught Vergil's attention immediately and he turned his gaze away from Dante to raise an eyebrow at Alex. The boy's eyes were blazing nearly as much as his father's, his hands clutching at Vivienne's where she held the knife to his throat.

"What was that?"

Alex swallowed, "don't talk about her like that."

"Just like your father aren't you?" Vergil gave the boy a condescending smile. "A pathetic mommy's boy." Alex didn't know what the man meant and Vergil didn't elaborate.

"At least I'm not like you," Alex retaliated trying to pull away from Vivienne's hold. She wasn't going to hurt him, he knew she wasn't, she had put all her hope of a family on him. She was nervous though, the knife twitched against the skin of his throat; if she slipped he could be dead.

Vergil ignored the comment, turned back to Dante with a frown. "I'm fed up with the games, where is it?"

Dante grinned lazily at Vergil, partly because he knew it wound him up and partly because his lax muscles couldn't afford a more serious expression. "Bite me."

Vergil looked as though he were going to hit Dante, but then he changed his mind. Instead he stood up, moved across the room to where Vivienne held Alex. He grabbed her by the arm, taking the knife from her shaking hand and grabbing Alex by the scruff of the neck.

A look of surprise crossed Vivienne's face as Vergil pulled Alex away from her. She looked as though she were about to speak, but instead stayed silent leaning back against the wall behind her.

Dante's mood immediately sobered when Vergil held the knife to Alex's throat. "You'd better tell me before you pass out."

"Let him go," was Dante's response, his words slurred slightly, as he desperately to pull himself up. It didn't work, he couldn't move. He took a labored breath. "What the hell did you do to me?"

"You wouldn't understand the technicalities of it all even if I told you," Vergil sighed as though explaining to an unpromising child. "Bottom line is Vivienne's father was testing out some mutations of curare on demons. They're modified against the guinea pig's reactions, but of course it's really only a high strength muscle relaxant, it stays under the radar with our healing system. Common cause of death is asphyxiation due to the muscles in the lungs being unable to draw breath. I have no idea whether it'll kill you or not, but the question is whether you want to risk dying with your son still in immediate danger."

Dante didn't really understand he couldn't hold a lucid thought. Instead he turned his concentration to his demonic side, tried to force it into action. He could feel the electricity running over his skin, a sudden thrum in his blood then Vergil kicked him hard in the side, slammed the knife down into the back of his hand. Dante choked and let out a gasp.

"If you even dare I will kill him right now," Vergil growled wrenching he knife free and pressing the bloodied blade to Alex's neck. "Tell me where the amulet is."

Dante knew he didn't have a choice when he dared to look into his son's eyes. Vergil had backed up a little, but he was barely two meters away. Alex's face was pale and his eyes were glassy, he was confused and frightened. He needed his father to be a hero and Dante couldn't even move. He felt shame wash over him, he squeezed his eyes tight shut and opened them again, this time looked at Vergil.

"It's in my pocket," he answered lips finding it hard to form the words. The world was doomed and he was about to pass out, maybe even die.

"Go get the amulet from daddy would you?" Vergil asked shoving Alex forward. The boy was shaking as he moved, reached into Dante's pocket and grabbed the heavy chain.

"Dad…?"

"It's alright Alex," Dante whispered because he couldn't make his voice work. "I'm going to fix this."

Alex nodded, swiped at his eyes and turned around he stepped across to Vergil handed him the golden amulet with his head bowed. He wanted to kill the man, he wanted to hurt him, but he was too afraid. That revelation made him feel like a coward.

"That wasn't so hard was it?" Vergil asked with a sneer, the hand with the knife moving ever so slightly.

Dante's well trained eyes caught the movement, but his warning was a feeble croak. "Alex…"

The knife drove up into the boy's gut with a visceral squelch. Alex sucked in a breath around the pain, Dante cried out. Vergil ripped the blade free only to stab Alex again, higher up, in the chest.

Alex screamed, fire tore through him and his knees buckled forcing his weight onto the blade. He choked and blood poured into the back of his throat, spilling from his lips onto the tiled floor below him.

"No!" Dante yelled; he needed to move, his hand twitched, his eyes screwed tight shut. He opened them again a second later as Alex slid to the floor. "No, no, no… I'm going to kill you Vergil, how could you? How could you…?" He choked and had to remember to breathe, panting to stop himself from blacking out.

Alex lay staring at the bright lights of the ceiling hands clutched over the wound in his chest as blood trickled between his fingers. It was pain he'd never felt before, pain he didn't think it was possible to feel. Blood was rising into the back of his throat, it trickled from the corner of his mouth, he couldn't draw breath around the substance as it choked him. Alex coughed and retched, his head lolled. He saw his father's face from the corner of his eye. Dante was covered in blood; it matted his hair and dried in rivulets at his lips. There was fear in his father's eyes, and Alex knew it wasn't for his own well-being. He wanted to tell his dad he was going to be alright, but he knew with a terrifying clarity that they could both very well die here.

"He's expendable," Vergil answered with a smirk.

"Expendable," Dante breathed even in his shocked state Dante's mind registered the word. His consciousness was being snatched from him, his vision blurred, Alex's form across from him fading into darkness. "Expendable…" there was only one answer to the question playing out in his mind, Vergil didn't throw away his bargaining chips so carelessly, the thought made him feel sick as he finally passed out. "Evey."

* * *

"Evey?" Lady's voice was soft, but firm as she knocked on the wood of Dante's currently locked bedroom door. She was used to this sort of behavior from kids, but not under the same circumstances. She didn't really know who was in the wrong either. Dante should have told her everything from the beginning – it was what she would have done, what she _had_ done. At the same time Evey had been nasty when it was still clear that Dante had been trying to protect her. It was something she envied Evey for – not Dante as a father, the idea that Dante actually had kids still seemed bizarre to her, but having a father who cared about you enough to kill someone… Not exactly the best way to show someone you loved them, but it was more than Lady could have ever wished for. She had been around Evey's age, possibly younger, when Arkham killed her mother, when Mary died…

"Leave me alone!" came the angry reply from behind the door muffled by the pillow the girl had probably buried her head in.

Lady should have probably realized there was little she could do. She should just go back downstairs; find something sanitary to eat… leave the family counseling up to a professional.

"I just want to talk to you," Lady continued leaning against the door. "I know it's none of my business, but looking after you is my responsibility I want to make sure you're alright." _And I'd prefer it if you unlocked this door for safety reasons._ If Evey really was in danger from something then a door wouldn't really stop Lady, but it might slow her down. She wouldn't be able to face Dante if anything happened to Evey whilst she was under her watch.

"Why should I talk to you? I don't even know you!" Evey snapped. She was angry and she didn't really know why – well she had a pretty good idea – nothing much made sense at the moment. Even if her parents had _meant_ well everything was so terribly wrong.

Lady sighed. "We have more in common than you think."

"Was your dad a murderer?" Evey gave a derisive laugh. "Was your mom a demon?"

"Something like that," Lady replied quietly because she really did feel for the girl. She knew what it was like to have your life destroyed in a matter of minutes. Sure Evey had her family to put the world to rights again, but that was only if she wanted to let them in… and depended on how much of her family she had left afterwards. "We have a lot more in common than you think."

She paused, waited for the door to unlock; nothing.

"Look Evey I know your dad, I've known him for ages and I know how it all seems to you, but you have everything wrong," Lady explained picking at the old wood in front of her. Devil May Cry needed a make over; at least upstairs anyway, this place was falling apart.

Finally she heard the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor then the bolt turned and the door eased open.

"You can tell me about my dad?" Evey asked cautiously. Her eyes were red ringed and puffy her hair disheveled.

"Well I'm not sure how much he wants you to know," Lady answered truthfully trying to wedge her foot in the door without the girl noticing. "But some of it I guess."

Evey looked thoughtful then opened the door and allowed Lady inside going back to sit down on the bed. "How long have you known my dad?"

Lady leaned back against the wall, looked thoughtful even though she knew exactly how long she had known Dante – how could she forget? "Since we were kids – teenagers – I guess you could say he saved my life." In fact he gave her an entirely new one.

"Do you know how old he is?" Evey asked suddenly, brow furrowed.

"You don't?" Lady asked surprised.

"He doesn't like his birthday," Evey answered staring into a corner of the room because a bitter hatred spilled onto her tongue at even the mention of her father. "We give him a present, Alex and I and mom does sometimes, but there's never any cards from anyone – save you I saw one from you once – and we have pizza. But I can tell there's something wrong…"

Lady nodded in understanding. She had had to bully the date of Dante's birthday out of him when they were younger. At first she'd figured it was vanity because he didn't want to get older, but soon she realized that it depressed him. Any family occasion seemed to get at him. Lady felt the same, but her vendettas were put to rest, her family was dead, it was tragic, but she knew they were in heaven – or hell as the case may be. Dante still had two members of his family lost to him, one grave when he was missing three; even if he had accepted Sparda's death she knew he hadn't accepted Vergil's.

"I think mom makes up her age, she went backwards last year," Evey said her voice filled with dry humor. She sighed. "There's so much about them I don't understand."

"I think you have to ask them," Lady offered sympathetically. "Once all this is over you should talk to them."

"They might be lying again," Evey replied crossly. "How can I trust them? How can I trust them when he… he…" Evey turned and buried her head back in the pillows. She didn't want this woman to see her cry; she didn't really understand why she was crying. She should be angry, not sad, but the anger caught in her throat, turned into tears instead.

"Evey," Lady made her way across the room, tugged at the girl's shoulder gently. "He's your dad, he loves you."

Evey sat up her eyes blazing. "He killed that man in cold blood. He's a murderer."

"I know," Lady said because it was the truth, Dante had killed humans, would probably do so again if he had to. "But you have to understand that there are bad people in the world-"

"That doesn't mean we can just kill them all."

"No, but," Lady bit her lip trying to think of what to say. "There are good demons in this world, like your dad and then there are bad people. People who are somehow worse than demons because they can think beyond the bloodlust; they can live and plot and kill all for personal gain. Demons just want to exist, it's what they do, it's how they live. There are a few intelligent ones, but your dad makes sure they don't live long enough to ruin people's lives… like they ruined his."

Lady turned her gaze to glance out the window, the sun painted the sky a bloody red. "You have to understand how lucky you are Evey to have a family that cares about you so much. Your parents would do anything for you. My father," it felt strange telling all this to a child, so easily when she found it hard even to talk to Mark about it all. Maybe because this somehow felt right, telling Evey the whole story, telling her something her father had taught Lady.

"My father was human, but he killed my mother, he nearly killed me. Dante - your dad - stopped him and I'm eternally grateful for it. My father would have done bad things if no one stood in his way. He'd have destroyed the world in order to get what he wanted."

Evey watched Lady with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't think…"

"It's alright," Lady replied. "It's not a part of me anymore. Just remember how lucky you are."

Evey nodded quietly, rubbing at her eyes. She felt stupid for crying now. She still had a family; she still had people to run to when she was frightened. She couldn't imagine not having them to look after her.

Lady smiled rubbed Evey's shoulder encouragingly. "So are you hungry? I was going to try and find something downstairs which was safe to eat."

"That might be difficult," Evey said and gave a forced smile, she felt better, but she wouldn't be happy until Alex was back home.

"I know, jeez I don't know how your mother puts up with him," Lady laughed. She didn't honestly, Trish was the only one who could make Dante eat proper food and force him to clean up though she did have a strange immunity to the chaos Dante caused. Maybe it was something demonic…

Lady stood, helping Evey up and making sure the girl followed as they walked downstairs – she didn't fancy trying to negotiate her way into the room again. "Why don't you sit down on one of the sofas and I'll see what I can find? I guess if the worst comes to the worst we can order pizza right? Your dad must have a number lying around somewhere…" Lady said glancing at the desk quickly and spying a couple of scrawled notes on the disheveled surface.

Evey nodded and went to sit down. A strange look had come across the girl's face, but it didn't register in Lady's head. She was probably just worried and confused, she didn't blame Evey really, she had a lot to figure out and accept right now. She wondered to what extent the demonic blood affected the children. Probably more so seeing as Trish was a full demon though they both appeared to be perfectly normal.

Lady slipped into the kitchen only half prepared for the collection of germs and mold Dante was nurturing. Pizza boxes were piled by a dustbin – at least they weren't in the main office – and the few dishes Dante owned were soaking in the sink. Lady pulled a face and crossed the room, pulled the fridge door open. The smell of something rotten hit her and she held a hand up to her nose examining the contents of the refrigerator as though it may suddenly attempt to bite her.

She found a half-eaten pizza at the back on the bottom shelf, it looked remotely safe – at least it wasn't oozing some kind of slime – so she took it and made her way back to the main room.

"Well I guess it looks like pizza after all. I guess we could order some then seeing as this is cold I'm sure your dad wouldn't mind me sticking it on his tab and…"

The pizza box hit the floor with a thud and a squelch. The room was empty, the girl had disappeared…

"Evey?" Lady walked further into the room completely forgetting her previous concerns of food. "Are you here? Now isn't the time to be playing games…"

She knew it wasn't a game though, this was a very serious situation and it was going horribly wrong. Lady ran to the door of Devil May Cry, wrenched it open and peered out into the street. She couldn't see the girl; she sighed and went to the desk, searched under it half-heartedly. No Evey. She was just about to turn away when she noticed something. One of Dante's scrawled notes from the desk top was missing. Lady had seen it before, an address…

"Shit."

* * *

Trish stood in the spacious entrance hall, sighed with exasperation. She had been fiddling with the wires in the broken elevator control panel for around ten minutes now and was having no success in calling it back up or opening the mechanical doors. The screen above the metal doors read -1, they had been stuck there for ages. Someone hadn't been too careful in making sure the secret floor was hidden from civilians. Unless everyone who worked here was supposed to know about it. She stood back, sent a shock through the fried components, nothing happened.

She turned back to cast her eyes across the room. There had been a fight here, the odd human corpse lay in the large room and there was blood on the floor in places. Some of it had to be Dante's; these creatures bled a silvery black even if they were human underneath. That fact put a small amount of worry in her heart, but she cast it aside. Dante hardly ever came home without an injury – a fully healed injury by that time. He knew his limits by now, he wasn't stupid.

But this was her fight too and she wasn't planning on letting him get in over his head. She turned back to the elevator, glanced at the blackened call box briefly then decided to do what she should have done in the first place. She raised her gun, fired into the centre of the doors until the metal ripped away and she could find a hand hold. Her fingers cut to the bone as she took hold of the jagged metal, prized the doors apart. She wedged her foot in the small gap, pushed against the doors and they opened with a protested grinding of metal. She punched a hole in one door, ripped out the wiring. It sent electrical shocks up her arm and burnt her skin, but the wounds began to heal themselves within seconds. The last thing they wanted was for these doors to close on them if they needed to make a fast retreat.

Now, Trish stared at the empty elevator shaft, looked down into the inky blackness. This was always something she had wanted to do – you see something in a movie enough times you will eventually want to have a go at it. She was considering the best way to make her descent when she heard something above her. The sound was amplified by the enclosed area a snarl followed by hissing and clicking. Those creatures, and more than one of them from the sounds of it though she didn't look up.

Luckily for Trish she was unlimited by the bounds of humanity and threw into the darkness without a second thought; so much for spelunking down the elevator shaft. She twisted sideways as a roar erupted behind her, cast lightning out like a web from her fingers. She would ignore the fact they were human for now, she didn't have a choice if she wanted to find Alex. Two creatures dropped like a sack of grain, dead or unconscious she was uncertain, but she didn't know if they could survive the fall anyway. One caught the main cable, slid down it tearing flesh from its bones. Trish urged herself back, kicked off a wall behind her and flipped sending the toe of her boot crashing through the thing's jaw.

The momentum sent her upright again, just in time as her booted heels hit the metal carriage with a hollow _thunk_. Two of the things dropped down dead next to her, there were move alive above her, but she wouldn't kill more than was necessary. In the dark the escape hatch on the top of the elevator was difficult to find, but her hands sought it blindly and eventually struck gold. She yanked the door open, slipped inside and pulled it shut behind her as two more of the creatures hit the ceiling above her.

Trish took a moment to collect herself, brushed the hair out of her face. She didn't know how long the elevator would hold back those things, but she didn't want to find out. Now she was on track again all she had to do was follow the trail of destruction.

_A/N: Strange that the 'torture poor Dante' chapters are the easiest to write. Also makes me worry about my sanity. Anyway yeah it took me ages to figure out how I was going to write this bit then Cobalt Demoness helpfully suggested Curare (I don't know how she knows these things, but it worries me) which is a drug used in darts and a nasty thing too if the research I did was correct._

_Also Vergil is being too evil... well evil in the cliched sense anyway. I can't make him work I don't know why, but hopefully the next chapter will explain a few things. Yep, thanks for the reviews!!_

_-Lady Luce_


	14. Chapter XIV

Chapter XIV

This was not possible, it wasn't happening, it couldn't be… Dante was going to kill her. How could she have lost Evey…? She knew she was a little rusty, but she used to hunt _demons_ for a living. Why couldn't she keep track of one small girl? Ignoring the fact that Evey could technically be classed as a demon.

Lady tore back upstairs her heart jumping as she searched the rooms frantically. Evey wasn't here, she knew she wasn't here. The girl had taken the address of the office buildings Dante and Trish had left for. The name of the company was Phoenix – Lady had seen that much from the scrawled address. She had a pretty good idea where that was, but it would take Evey a while to get there by foot. It wasn't only demons Lady had to worry about either; it was dangerous for children to be out in the city at night. Especially here… Devil May Cry wasn't exactly in the best neighbourhood. It was hidden where it would be overlooked.

She trudged back downstairs, scanning the room one last time. Evey wasn't here, she had already gone and Lady was wasting time looking for her. She grabbed Kalina Ann, swung the bazooka over her shoulder. She needed to go out and search, but she was worried about leaving if Evey decided to return. She didn't think she could stand to wait though so she didn't really have a choice.

Lady left Devil May Cry hurriedly jumped on her bike – the bike that Mark couldn't persuade her to get rid of no matter how dangerous it might be – and sped off into the street. She followed the safest route, hoping that the girl would have been sensible enough to stick to the well lit, more crowded areas. She doubled back on herself a number of times, searched the crowded streets with her bi coloured eyes. She couldn't see the small girl with strangely white hair anywhere.

This was hopeless; it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. She was making her way slowly towards the office blocks, though she doubted Evey would already be there, accounting for any powers the girl possessed she didn't think that jumping great distances through space was one of them. She doubled back every two minutes, took a different route eyes fixed on the busy pavements. Just great, one thing, one small thing Dante had asked her to do in complete confidence of her ability and she couldn't even handle that. She really had lost her touch.

Lady pulled her into Phoenix's spacious car park, shut off the engine and rested her head in her hands, arms propped against the handlebars. One stupid little thing…

It wasn't doing her any good waiting here though, she wouldn't find anything here. Was Evey intelligent enough – old enough – to catch a bus? Did she have any money with which to do so? Or would she try to get out of paying? Pull some lost little girl act? Lady wouldn't expect it of her, but she hadn't expected for the kid to bolt like that either. Maybe she should drive back to Devil May Cry, check she wasn't there. What if she _had_ been there all the time and had hidden somewhere to get rid of Lady. It didn't make much sense, but she was clutching at straws.

Eventually Lady decided she could at least search the entrance hall of the building. After all just sitting here thinking about how on earth she was going to explain to Dante that she _misplaced_ his daughter was wasting time. The sun had set now, throwing the world into darkness. Dante and Trish couldn't be far off, they had left what? Half an hour earlier, nearly an hour now she guessed. She passed Dante's car on the way to the double doors at the front of the building a phoenix crest printed in opaque white in the centre of the otherwise transparent glass.

The entrance hall was spacious and annoyingly empty. Lady drew a gun and proceeded cautiously. All her old instincts were coming into action – not that they had ever really stopped. She had frightened her husband on more than one occasion when she had knocked him to the ground because she thought she heard a gun shot. It was a habit which was hard to get out of, but she was far better at it now. Strangely enough the unexpected demonic attacks had stopped as soon as she distanced herself from Dante – though it had also been the time she gave up demon hunting. Lady was rather offended that the demons didn't think her worthy of remembering – or holding a grudge against, but she knew that honestly it was a good thing. A _very_ good thing. If her children were ever put in this sort of danger she didn't know what she would do. Dante must have been going through hell.

* * *

Dante woke coughing and sucking in air. For the moment it was all he could do, he couldn't even force his eyes open, it felt as though he'd been drowning. His head lolled, his eyelashes flickered and then it all came back to him with a sickening clarity. His eyes snapped open and he choked.

He couldn't see the world before him was a blurred green blue, there was something covering his mouth; something jammed up his nose. His immediate reaction was to pull the thing away, but he couldn't, his limbs were still weak and strangely light, his head was pounding and clogged, if he didn't know better he'd say he had just woken up from a _very_ bad hang over. The initial panic caused by both his own confusion and his worry for Alex made him lash out at the bizarre prison. His hand struck against something hard, bounced off with a dull _thunk_ that echoed oddly in the atmosphere.

It took him a moment to realize he the substance encasing him was water – or some chemical of a similar nature, another to calm the natural panic rising in his gut, assure himself that he wasn't drowning. The thing in his nose was pumping oxygen into his lungs. Dante _could_ survive underwater for a while, but he didn't know how long he'd been here and unconscious he couldn't subdue the natural urges to try and draw breath. So he wasn't meant to die, at least not yet anyway…

When he stretched out his hands again he was met with solid resistance. He knew where he was now as his vision cleared and his demonic half adjusted, his eyes focusing slowly. There was glass before his gloved hands, thick bullet proof glass designed to keep demons in; designed to keep _him_ in. He was in one of those tanks like a frog in formaldehyde. There were wires imbedded into his skin – he only noticed them when a tiny eclectic shock hit him. _Great_ so he was the test subject in the mad scientist's experiment; that was an entirely new one to add to the list.

Now that he had established where he was he needed to find Alex. It took a moment to focus his eyes through the thick glass and the water, but eventually he saw the room beyond. Another annoyingly white and sterile room – though it had taken on a green blue tint from Dante's position inside the tank. There was a jumble of wires snaking across the floor, other scientific looking equipment which he didn't have the patience to study of figure out – not when Alex could still be alive and in danger… or dead… There was a control panel he could barely see up against the railings of a balcony if he craned his head, coloured lights flashed on the surface numbers scrolled horizontally along a computer screen. The rest of the room appeared to be empty, an unnecessary waste of space. Trying to see any further proved to be impossible, the movement yanked on the wires attached to him and sent tiny pricks of electricity up his spine.

The whole sensation of movement was a bizarre out of body experience which was far from enjoyable. His head was muggy, he felt sick and it was still hard to retain lucidity despite the worry he felt for Alex. He forced himself to focus on the room beyond his coffin like prison, find some trace of the boy.

Instead he found Vergil, walking into view to leer up at him with one blue eye. Dante glared, muscles tensed though it was far harder to do suspended in the almost weightless state. He wanted to speak, but his mouth was currently blocked by the mask which kept him breathing.

"Having fun?" Vergil asked his voice sound distorted and hollow through the water, Dante could still hear the biting tone in it though. "Annoyingly I still need you alive for the moment, I could have used your son, but it was surprisingly easy to bait you into the trap and it'll be far easier to extract father's power from you than a tainted specimen."

At the mention of Alex Dante ripped the mask away from his face. He didn't need it; he could breathe fine now that he was awake completely. Bubbles rippled the water before him as the ventilator sprayed oxygen into the water. He choked for a moment and then forced himself to relax, hold his breath, let his demonic half respire anaerobicly.

"Where's Alex?" He shouted through the glass, because all the sarcasm was gone now. He didn't care that Vergil seemed to have gone from psychotic to mad scientist; the only thing that mattered was his son.

Vergil made a motion like he couldn't hear a smug smile on his face.

Dante kicked the glass in frustration; his booted foot glanced off it uselessly. "Where's my son?!"

The elder twin quirked an eyebrow, acknowledged Dante's question and waved vaguely to the right.

Dante's gaze followed the gesture. Vivienne sat crouched close to the tank. Her back was to him and the wires which coiled along the wall in thick metal casing. She sat as elegantly as one could be expected to when wearing a full length dress and on the floor of… whatever this room was for. Not that Dante cared; his eyes were fixed on the boy Vivienne was cradling in her arms. He was pale and bloody, his blond hair matted with sanguine and his eyes closed. Dante couldn't tell if he was breathing. It made his heart seize in his chest, horror showing clearly on his features though it was mixed with anger. That _woman_ was holding Alex as though he was hers, stroking his hair with a mother's tenderness, rocking him gently. It was _his_ son, his child who was dying or dead – the idea too hard to comprehend – and he was in the arms of a complete stranger. Dante wanted to hold his son, needed to know if he was still alive, protect him and grieve if he was dead…

It sent bitter anger surging through him, wild and untamed. Electricity jumped in his blood, surged outwards from somewhere inside. Vergil realized what was happening a moment too late, made his way to the control panel, flicked a switch. It sent fire coursing through Dante, he could feel it draining away the power jumping in his veins, but clawed hands ripped the wires away as he triggered. The sudden burst of energy shattered the tank outwards. Water tore through the glass, sent him, sprawling onto the tiled floor.

He was on his feet in an instant, but instead of going after his twin he turned his back on him. If Vergil wanted to stab him in the back then so be it, he'd already done far worse. Vivienne lay dishevelled on the floor, thrown forwards by the blast, tiny cuts along one arm which she had used to shield her face from the glass. Dante had no mercy for her as he stalked over; she whimpered when he grabbed her injured arm and hauled her up only to shove her away, towards Vergil. He heard her crash to the ground again as her heels slipped on the wet floor, heard her take a few sniffing breaths.

He didn't care, even if she was human even if it wasn't her fault he didn't care. Alex lay on the floor at his feet, thrown onto his front by the blast, his eyes closed. Dante knelt down, slipping back into human form again as all the energy drained out of him. Gentle hands pulled the boy into his lap, brushed the damp, bloodied, hair from his face. Alex was impossibly pale, but there was still a whisper of breath passing between his parted lips.

"Alex?" Dante asked his voice filled with pathetic hope. "Please, please be alright."

"Dad…?" The boy's voice was broken and impossibly weak, it was a miracle he had survived this long. He _should_ be dead, his demonic blood was allowing him to stay alive, but he wasn't healing, he'd been stabbed straight through the heart.

The realization made Dante feel sick. He swallowed and a lump stuck in his throat. His child was dying in his arms and it was painfully obvious to him even as denial rose up in his mind, because he couldn't accept it. He couldn't loose someone else…

Alex's eyes opened, but they were fogged with pain and out of focus. "Dad I'm sorry…"

"No, no," Dante shook his head numbly, smiled weakly; his hand still stroked the boy's hair in a detached way. "This has nothing to do with you, it isn't your fault," he swallowed hard again, feeling emotion knot in the back of his throat. "I'm the one who should be sorry, I should have… I should have just told you everything from the beginning."

"I-I'm a demon?" Alex let the words whisper out of him, he knew he didn't have very many left.

"Yeah," Dante nodded, sucked in a breath because it felt as though something was pressing down on his chest, slowly forcing all the air out of him, "yeah half."

"I guess I can still get into heaven then huh?" Alex asked a sardonic smile quirking the corners of his mouth. The tone of his voice was far too old for the thirteen year old boy in his arms; the acceptance in his eyes too final for a face which was so young.

"You're not going to die," Dante replied vehemently, he refused to see that it was too late for those words; Alex's eyes had slid shut the smile slipping from his features. "I'm not loosing you too, I _can't_…"

The room was silent as Dante's voice ended in a strangled whisper; the familiar grief of lose ached in his chest like a scar which had been torn open. Then a low, cracked sound filled the room, like some warped mockery of laughter. Dante didn't realize he was crying until the pale liquid splashed onto the boy's cold cheek, Alex was gone. He hugged the limp body closer to his chest as though he could force the life back into him through mere strength of will. His movements were jerky and feverish as Dante cradled his child against his shoulder, pressed his cheek to Alex's cold, dead one and smelt the life still lingering on his skin tainted by the deadly scent of copper.

"No, no, Alex," Dante's voice was a cracked whisper, tears sliding down the curves of his cheeks. "You can't… you can't leave me…no, Alex please…"

He rocked on the balls of his feet, held the lifeless body in his arms like he'd done so many times when the boy had been unable to sleep. Only this time Alex wasn't going to wake up. He'd watched the boy grow up, taught him to ride a bike all of that stupid sappy family stuff he'd sworn he'd never do and now his son had been stolen from him like everything else that was ever good in his life. He'd worked so hard to protect them and make sure nothing bad ever happened to them and it had all back fired. It was _his_ fault, if he wasn't a demon if he wasn't the bloody son of Sparda… That 'title' had only ever brought him misery and suffering.

Finally comprehension pierced his mind. It came in the form of laughter; hollow and triumphant echoing across the room to his ears. Then heavy foot falls on the tiled floor behind him.

"How _touching_," Vergil leered from mere meters behind his brother. "Didn't I always tell you that those pesky emotions would get in the way? All this pain and for what? You've been fooling yourself Dante if you ever thought you could live a normal life and now you've got a family to pay for your disasters too."

It took Dante a second to let Alex slide to the floor and another to turn around, launch himself at Vergil. He didn't care about weapons or fair fights or any form of conduct. He sent them both to the ground; his hands found Vergil's neck squeezed his airway.

"You bastard, I fucking _cared_ when you died," Dante seethed feeling the muscles tense under his fingers, wanting nothing more than to hear the bones snap. "Of all the underhanded things you could do… how could you sink so low and you even think you can call yourself my brother?!"

His tirade was halted when cool steel pressed against his throat. Vergil had flicked the knife up from where it was strapped to his leg; let the keen edge bite into the pale skin of Dante's throat. It wouldn't have been enough to make Dante stop normally, but it brought a moment of clarity to his clouded mind and that was when he noticed. The hair had fallen away from Vergil's left eye and instead of matching blue it was a deep shade of red. He lost his concentration for a second and it was all Vergil needed. His twin's fist connected with Dante's temple in a harsh blow knocked him over as he lost his hold and skidded sideways onto the floor.

Dante flipped himself up onto his feet, felt his stomach muscles tear in protest of the harsh movement. He turned around to see Vergil standing across from him sword in hand, grinning. Dante cracked his knuckles, got ready to fight even without his weapons. It didn't matter, one way or another he was going to tear Vergil limb from limb. Still he attempted to call Rebellion. The sword was hidden to the side of the tank he had been in and flew to him, Dante caught the blade expertly by the hilt, swung the sword forwards into a fighting stance.

"Let's finish this," he growled voice low and deadly. There was none of his usual humour to it, none of the joy in the thrill of the fight. He was done wishing his brother would come back, see sense. "I'm going to kill you like I should have done all those years ago."

"I'd like to see you try little brother," Vergil smirked. "Considering you can't even protect the ones you love the most in the world I have a feeling you won't be strong enough to defeat me."

Vergil wanted to provoke him, Dante didn't care. He rushed forwards with a roar, swung Rebellion in an arc which would have taken Vergil's head clean from his shoulders if he'd stayed still. But his twin had already teleported behind him; Dante forced his swing into the reverse, parried a blow and surged forwards in his attack. Vergil had always been more skilled in swordplay, but Dante still found himself coming out on top as he drove his twin backwards. Rage fuelled his every blow, made each movement a split second faster. He wanted nothing more than to kill Vergil, make him pay for it all, the long hours Dante had spent alone worrying about his twin's wellbeing and this was how he was repaid for it? By having someone he loved torn away from him again?

Thinking of Alex made his concentration slip. He had yet to accept the reality of the situation, and comprehension was coming to him in small snatches at the most inconvenient times. Vergil swung at his legs, caught him across the shins. Dante stumbled as Vergil flew in for another blow; the keen blade tore across his chest leaving a deep gash running from his shoulder to him. Then Vergil ducked to the side, smashed Dante back into a wall with his fist and drove the sword up between his ribs.

Dante cried out, felt blood paint his lips as the cool steel tore up into his lung with a visceral squelch. He coughed; spat the dark liquid into Vergil's triumphant face. His brother wiped it away with a clear look of disgust.

"Bastard," he growled between clenched teeth when Vergil twisted the blade savagely; he could feel the keen edge grating against his ribs. The man standing mere inches from him meant nothing to him anymore, Vergil was dead.

Moving his sword arm aggravated his injuries and hurt like hell, but he persevered, gripped Rebellion's hilt firmly and threw the blade upwards. Vergil caught the sharp edge in his gloved hand, let it cut to the bone then yanked it out of his grasp. The sword clattered to the ground. Dante stretched out his hand and tried to call Rebellion back to him; Vergil drove the sword further into his chest and broke his twin's concentration.

"Just for once Dante would you do as you're told?" Vergil reprimanded a scowl marring his features. "You've lost; your son is dead because of your inability to save him-"

"You killed him," Dante hissed furiously, tried to get his hands around Vergil's throat again until Vergil punched him across the face. The force of the blow sent more blood onto his tongue as his teeth cut into his lip. He rested his head back against the wall, let his cheek heal and re-evaluated the situation. He felt numb even with a sword parting his ribs, Alex was dead; he didn't know how he was going to tell Trish or Evey, they depended on him and he'd failed them.

"You lost him twice," Vergil replied with a sneer, his red eye flashed with a strangely inhuman light, the evil in it sent shivers up Dante's spine. "Once to some _human_ and then to me. Why don't you just give up and die now it'll be less painful than watching me tear the remainder of your family to shreds."

"How far have you fallen?" Dante snarled, he stared into his twins eyes, tried to find something which was his brother, but it wasn't him… So long in hell would change anybody, but there was something wrong here. Realization sunk heavily into his gut and he shook his head incredulously "You're not Vergil… you're not him… you're not my brother."

Dante didn't give Vergil the chance to respond, he forced himself into action despite the pain in his side. He grabbed his twin by the collar, swung him round and called Rebellion. The sword could tear itself through walls at its masters will, parting feeble flesh and bone was a simple job. Rebellion's sharp edge severed Vergil's spinal cord, tore through muscle and organs as though they were paper. There was a moment of shocked surprise in his brother's eyes and then it turned to fury as blood slipped between the cracks in his teeth, dribbled from the corners of his mouth.

"I'm your brother," the words were hoarse as Vergil clung to Dante's shoulder for support, his brows furrowed and his eyes boring into Dante's own. "I'm your brother." He repeated as though he didn't know what else to say, jaw slack as all the colour drained from his face.

Dante gave his 'brother' a sarcastic grin, he should have realised sooner, there had been something wrong right from the beginning. This trick had been pulled on him one too many times now, it was getting old. Demons were devious this way; he had to hand it to them for figuring out his weaknesses when they supposedly couldn't feel love or loss themselves.

"I'm your brother," 'Vergil insisted again, almost desperately this time.

Dante shook his head with a smirk and a humourless laugh, replied confidently. "You're not. Best impersonator so far though so good on you," he clapped the clone on the shoulder. "First prize, but you don't quite level up to the original."

He detached the clone's hand from his shoulder and watched as he crumpled forwards, Dante stepped aside; let him collapse onto the cold tiles.

He swallowed, took a breath and then gripped the hilt of the sword in his side and drew it out, watching the bloodied silver with distaste and gritting his teeth around the pain. He let the blade clatter to the ground uselessly, gripped Rebellion's handle and pulled the sword from Vergil's back.

The clone didn't react… Dante bent down, stared into the bi-coloured eyes. They were staring and lifeless, he was dead. If only it were that simple though. He flicked Rebellion to clear the blade of blood and turned back to Vivienne fully expecting to see her standing and composed, the amulets entwined in the palm of one hand.

* * *

_A/N:_ _This chapter wasn't as long as the last couple, but at least I updated more or less on time right? It wasn't as easy to write as the last one, which makes me worry about the quality, but err I'm supposed to not be negative so yeah -nods-. I guess you all understand why Vergil was acting strangely now?_

_Oh and err guys, review, I know if you fav/alert and don't review, I stalk all the people who add me to those lists XD I know it's something to be expected of this site, but it'd be nice if I could get over the 100 mark on this chapter eh? On the other hand, to those who do review and faithfully too one hell of a big thank you from me :D_

_Updates on this fic may become a little rare until after June. I have all my GCSEs in may and revision to do - as much as I despise it. That's not a promise though, I'm a procrastinator so who knows?_

_-Lady Luce_


	15. Chapter XV

* * *

Chapter XV

"So it was you all along?" Dante's voice was filled with a bitter resentment. He should have seen it, when everything felt so _wrong_ he should have known. Helpless bystanders never were helpless bystanders and he shouldn't have let his logic get away from him. There was still a somewhat brittle pain in his chest, it quailed in comparison to the grief he felt for his son, but killing 'Vergil' again tore open another scar. Dante gritted his teeth, he'd been played for a fool, this woman had found the power to play his emotions out to her will and tear his (semi-) perfect life apart. "You sent Castor after me; you… you _made_ Vergil and you killed my son."

Vivienne almost looked hurt at the accusation. "I didn't, I didn't kill Alex it was never part of the plan!" Then her eyes narrowed at him. "Y-you're the one who murdered Vergil; it was all going to be so perfect. He and I and Alex and you messed everything up!" She paused, bit her quaking lip. "I-I never meant for anything to happen to Alex, we were going to be a happy family."

Dante openly stared at her, jaw slack as he tried to think of something to say. She was out of her mind… He didn't honestly know how to deal with her. Could he kill her if she was so clearly deluded? Maybe he could just haul her off to a mental hospital. He needed his amulet though and if she had done this much _knew_ this much she might be trickier to handle than he estimated. Her fragile appearance could simply feigned, this whole thing could still be an act. "I don't even know who the hell you are."

Her expression changed a little, she smiled brightly, red lips stretched to show dazzlingly white teeth and posed like one of those bimbos showing off a car on a game show. "I am Vivienne Delacroix, daughter of Lawrence Delacroix and heir to the Phoenix Corporation." Her expression altered quickly, her blue eyes darkening and the corners of her mouth twitching into a scowl. The dark rings under her eyes left by her smudged mascara made her face all the more dark and menacing. "And you ruined my life."

Dante paused, Rebellion was still held in a firm grip in his hand, his eyes fixed on the woman. His brow furrowed. "What?"

She let out a mirthless bark of a laugh which didn't sound as though it could have come from her lips. "Don't play games with me son of Sparda. You think you do good don't you, but all you do it get in the way. You run in and don't even think about what people want, if you want to play the hero then go do something useful-"

"I-"

"It's all a game to you isn't it?!" She shrieked hysterically, turning on him, her fiery hair flying about her face. "Nothing bad ever happens to you! You just sit there and play god, kill what you want, _who _you want!"

"You killed my son!"

Vivienne's eyes narrowed, her lips pursed. "Well maybe you finally understand what it feels like. _You_ killed my family, you destroyed my life. I only ever wanted to hurt _you_, understand that, I was going to look after Alex; he would have had a better life than you could ever give him. I could have provided him with anything he wanted on a whim, but you had to ruin it all for me again didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dante said truthfully. He really didn't know what he'd ever done to his woman; he couldn't remember her… her name was unfamiliar; he'd never been here before…

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Typical," she said with a tone in her voice which said she was familiar with this situation. She examined her fingernails with a scowl before turning back to Dante. "Well then let me refresh your memory." She had turned her back on him, she was either too trusting or she didn't consider him a threat – for some worrying reason Dante thought it was the latter. Her heels clacked on the tiled floor as she moved towards the control panel, scanning the display of flashing lights and buttons.

Dante raised his head, tried to see what she was doing, but she only appeared to be thinking on her next option. The amulets were still entwined in one hand and she let the chains slip between her fingers as she chewed on her bottom lip. He should just rush her now and knock her out, drag her out of here along with her delusions…

"Ten years ago," she said finally, tone wistful as she let her eyes drift over the display in front of her. "I was pregnant with a child. It was a miracle; it was all I had ever wanted. My father was for once proud of me, it was the most time he'd ever spent away from his work. He was doing well in his job, he was making money and everything was finally perfect," she turned back to him, eyes glittering, "then you ruined everything."

He didn't remember what she was talking about, half of him wanted to know and Dante had a feeling she would tell him anyway. The other half thought he should just end all this now before she had the chance to do anything.

She smiled slightly at his confused expression. Her own expression was changing faster than Dante could keep up with, sad one moment, smiling the next then malice in her eyes and a sour quirk to her lips.

"You don't remember do you?" She sighed in a bored way as though Dante were some disappointing student. "I guess you would find it hard to distinguish from all your other jobs, by the time you showed up. It wasn't here, on the other side of town. My father was testing out some of his experiments, it was all fine and safe, he was a great scientist, everything was under control. And then you showed up and destroyed everything, you killed my father and blew up his lab and maybe I could have let that go in time. But you killed the one thing in this world I truly cared about, the one thing I wanted for my entire life, I had planned for it and when it finally happened you killed my baby."

Dante blinked, speechless. "W-what?"

"Oh mister high and mighty doesn't want to admit it, but you don't ever think about that do you? What happens after you've killed the demon hmm? When you leave the area in a pile of rubble and fire and then you go home giving yourself a pat on the back for a job well done. Do you even think about the people's lives you destroy?"

Dante kept his mouth shut; it was a rhetorical question anyway. For once he really didn't have anything to say. Sure he'd been a little reckless hunting, but he'd never thought it might actually have some serious repercussions.

Vivienne sniffed, there were tears glimmering in her eyes now, he hadn't noticed them appear there. "When… when you fought him I tried to stop you. I didn't think, you don't think about how weak you are when you feel that sort of fear in your gut; the fear that you might see your own parent murdered in front of your eyes. When you feel like that nothing else registers does it?" A flash of understanding in her bright eyes like she _knew_ and that idea worried Dante, struck something in his gut – maybe because her own emotions mirrored how he had felt years ago. He had let go of it now, she quite obviously hadn't.

"You probably didn't even feel me when I threw myself at you and clawed at your arm, I barely remember what happened myself. You knocked me back with one swipe of a clawed hand and I hit the wall, blacked out," she paused, bit her lip her voice softening and strained with tears. She wasn't seeing him, she was reliving it all, it wasn't good to harbour memories like that for so long, Dante knew first hand. "When I came round there was blood and sulphur in my mouth and I saw you walk amongst the flames like some phantom. You disappeared into the smoke and I think… I think I tried to follow you, but I passed out again. It was only afterwards I found out that I'd lost the baby. When you threw me back into the wall… I remember the pain now, at the time I didn't feel it…"

Her voice petered out and she glowered at him eyes blazing with fury and pain. She wiped away the tears angrily. "Well I'm glad now that you could feel just something of what I felt."

"Vivienne," Dante found his tongue finally and tried to think of what to say. He remembered now vaguely. He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair, his sword was forgotten at his side. She wouldn't attack him, she was an emotional wreck. It felt crazy to apologise to the woman who had caused the death of his son, but if she wasn't completely delusional then hadn't he done just the same thing. Admittedly he hadn't had fourteen years to grow attached to that child, but Dante knew such things didn't matter. You loved your kids before they were born to the day you died. "I'm sorry, I never meant to-"

"It's too late for that now," she hissed, voice tense. "I've harboured this hatred for ten long years. You may have ruined my plans, but you're not leaving here alive."

* * *

Lady sighed heavily resting back against the reception desk staring into Phoenix's front hall. She had given up searching the place, Evey couldn't have gone far and Dante was here somewhere, if he found her here… well that was just didn't bare thinking about. Lady was about to leave when she heard something behind her. She snapped round, gun drawn and heart racing to see the reception chair slide backwards across the floor. Her gun pointed at the area between the chair and desk, waiting for something to emerge.

When a shock of silvery hair caught the moonlight she had to catch herself before she pulled the trigger, jamming the gun into its holster.

"Evey?"

The girl's head flew round her eyes wide. She had obviously thought that she was alone and that it was safe for her to come out of her hiding place. "I-"

"I don't care about excuses," Lady started her voice firmer than she really felt. She had been terrified the girl was lost and was grateful that she wasn't – she didn't know what she would have done if she couldn't find the girl. She rounded the desk before Evey could even think of trying to run. Her voice softened. "Just please don't ever do anything like that again."

Evey's eyes dropped to the marble tiles beneath her feet. "Sorry."

Lady smiled slightly. "Like I said it doesn't matter, but we've got to get out of here before your dad finds us."

Lady turned, taking Evey's hand only to stop dead in her tracks. "Oh sh…ugar..." She hissed immediately quelling the urge to swear when there was a child present. It was a habit she had around her own children, not that it probably mattered with Evey she doubted Dante had learned how to bite his tongue.

A thin wiry _thing_ stood nearly seven feet from the desk. It cocked its head like a dog waiting for its master to throw the ball and a hissing sound emitted from its jaw. Lady hesitantly reached a hand back to pull Evey behind her, the other resting on the gun at her hip.

"Evey," she breathed drawing the gun oh so slowly not looking away from the creature in front of her. This must have been what Trish was talking about, those mutant demons. Its eyes were dark and reflective and they troubled her more than she would have liked to admit. "When I say run…"

Lady shifted her foot back slightly in case she needed to throw herself out of the way, raised her gun to aim. She horribly aware of the sound of her own breathing, the squeak of rubber against stone as her booted foot slid back against the floor, the girl's own hitching breaths behind her. And then the sharp _shink_ as she pulled the safety back on her gun.

The sound cut through the air like a knife, Lady had _known_ that it would be enough to wake the creature from its stupor. She threw herself backwards, grabbing the girl's arm and dragging her with her. She pulled Evey in towards her chest, tried to protect her from a harsh landing as she rolled backwards bullets whizzing in the direction of the fanged maw as the creature tore towards her.

The thing stumbled, but continued to race after her, she hauled Evey, shoved the girl in front of her. "Go hide behind that pillar," she ordered not bothering to indicate which of the vertical structures in the room she meant. Evey stumbled forwards, momentum keeping her going for a second, before she stopped and turned around just in time to see Lady roll out of the way of an oncoming claw.

"I can fight," Evey said confidently and had Lady had the time she would have rolled her eyes. Instead she dove sideways again, landed two more hits into the thing's leathery skin."You can discuss that with your father later," Lady ground out. "For now, pillar, go."

"But-"

Her protest didn't matter anyway; a bullet hit home, slammed through the thing's eye in a spray of bloody and gore and dropped to the ground.

The girl pulled a face. "Ew."

"Yeah it's not a pretty job," Lady agreed holstering her gun. "Now come on we've got to leave."

"I want to find my dad," Evey said firmly when Lady tried to grab her shoulder, force her towards the exit.

Lady paused. "I thought you were angry with him."

Evey pulled a face, annoyance creasing her brow. "I am, but I don't want anything bad to happen…"

"Your dad is fine," Lady said exasperated. Children, once hers got old enough to rebel she was locking them in a small dark room. "You think you're helping him by being here? He's worried as hell over Alex, what do you think he'd do if he knew you were in danger too?"

Evey's face fell, she knew Lady was right, but her family was in danger. She didn't want to sit and wait and pray they came back unscathed.

"I just want to know they're alright," Evey said softly looking back towards the elevator, the dark maw of the corridor which opened just right of the reception desk.

"Your dad is a _demon_ they'll be fine," Lady tried to steer Evey towards the exit, but she had a feeling it'd be harder than she first anticipated. The girl tore herself free, broke into a run across the room.

"Evey!" Lady yelled footsteps pounding across the marble after the child. Evey seemed to be showing her heritage though as she put on more speed, despite being at least a foot taller than the girl – and a well trained athlete to boot – Lady could see she was pulling ahead. There was a flash of silver in the light as the girl's hair caught the moon beams streaking the dark pit of the passage way next to the reception desk then she was swallowed by the shadows. Lady gritted her teeth, urged herself to move faster, then let her legs slip out from under her, sliding beneath a clawed hand as it flew at her face.

* * *

Dante wasn't quite sure what he had expected, maybe for her to attack him; a pathetic last attempt which he could easily fend off. Or possibly flick one of the controls on the panel in front of her, set some machinery in motion which he would have to take down. Anything really other than the beam of light and fire which shot from her palm, would have taken his head off if his instincts weren't lightning quick. The blast exploded against the sterile walls opposite leaving ash and rubble in its wake.

He had to dodge again when another blast of light came his way, suddenly wishing he had his guns as he moved forwards. He couldn't duel her if she was constantly throwing fire in his direction and whilst he could probably deflect one of the blasts back to her, take her out quickly he was still suffering from a sudden bout of conscious. Especially now, knowing that he had, inadvertently maybe, but still quite possibly ruined her life.

"Can't we talk about this?" He breathed rolling sideways using his sword as a crutch to haul himself up and dodge another blast. He was wishing now that his guns were demonic so that he could call them like Rebellion. He didn't know how many times he'd lost one in a fight and had to search for ages afterwards, but it would be damn useful now.

"You could have talked to my father instead of killing him!" The woman spat, another bout of flame flying past giving Dante very little time to dodge. He smelt burning hair as it whisked past his ear and cursed under his breath. She obviously possessed some form of demonic power, so that did mean she was now qualified to be on his 'to kill' list, but there were demons who really deserved to die and then these tragic humans who had somehow been reduced to this. But it wasn't exactly like any asylum could hold her now.

The sudden moment of indecision cost him when she suddenly caught him off guard. The blast hit him in the shoulder and threw him onto his back, head smacking into ground and making spots dance in front of his eyes. Rebellion flew from his hand, landed a few feet away, he wasn't too bothered, but he had the sense to roll onto his side to avoid another blast, which never came.

Dante rubbed his aching forehead, feeling viscid liquid paint his fingers. "Shit," he grunted pulling himself to his feet; he didn't believe he could have been so stupid as to let her get a hit in.

When he turned back to her she was facing away from him, hands flying over the flashing controls in front of her. He took a step forwards and she didn't even flinch so he continued on, outstretched hand calling rebellion to him. He kept on his toes, cautious as he approached her until he was far enough away to bring the sword in, rest the sharp edge against the side of her throat.

"It's over," he said voice harsh as he pressed the blade warningly into her throat. Her eyes slid to one side, fingers slipping over the panel in defeat then pressing down on the proverbial 'red button' before he had time to react.

A smile slid across the corner of her lips. "You can kill me if you like, it won't change anything," she turned towards him cutting open the first layer of skin on Rebellion's keen blade. Blood trailed in rivulets down her pale throat. Electricity crackled behind her in the depths of the room below. "It's only just begun."

* * *

_A/N: Right so I'm back! Miss me? I must say I'd have preferred to return with a little more style, this chapter's rather messy and I didn't read through it for fear I would then not be able to post it so apologies for spelling grammar, general over all crappyness. But I needed something to get me back into this fic so here you go. Though the good news is that seeing as I now have loads of free time I will hopefully be able to write more :)_

_So please review they help motivate me and I do love your opinions!_

_-Luce_


	16. Chapter XVI

Chapter 16

Finding Dante was slightly harder than Trish had anticipated, mainly because following Dante often meant walking straight into whatever carnage had crawled from the pits of hell to greet him. He wasn't the sort to sneak around and attempt to second guess his opponent, mainly because most of the time he didn't need to. She was often left to track him down, and she'd become pretty good at it, spotting a ruined surveillance camera, then a door and finally… a puddle of blood which made her take a step back, eyes wide.

It was Dante's; something in her gut told her it was. The demons in this place bled black and the only person who could loose that much blood and survive long enough to drag themselves out of the room was him. Worry coiled in her gut as she wondered who could have outsmarted him and whether or not he had left the room on his own terms. There was no blood leading out of the room, she guessed he would have healed by the time he left, but it was still a _lot_ of blood even for him.

She couldn't dwell on it though; standing here wondering wouldn't help her family. She picked her way across the room, avoiding the blood and exited through the door opposite. It was hard keeping track of where you were in this place. She knew she'd wandered in circles a bit before, everything was slowing her down and dread was slowly clawing its way up her spine. This was what she did, in every way what she was born to do, but this time everything was so much sharper in her mind. She felt each second slipping away and knew that a second could cost her family everything.

A couple more twists and turns and a set of double doors came into view. Her instincts told her to head straight for them, there was something different about the way this corridor was laid out, she could practically feel the energy waiting beyond…

Trish was nearly there when the room shook violently, sending her skidding into bleached white wall. She braced against the wall for support and pulled herself back up, regaining composure quickly then dashing down to the end of the corridor and throwing the doors open wide.

She stepped inside as another tremor shook the room and the doors banged shut behind her. It was hard to see in the sudden chaos as light flashed in the centre of the room creating a strange strobe effect which burned her pupils until she couldn't tell if her eyes were open or closed. Her eyes must have been open though, in the surreal half-light she could see two figures across from her – and the flashes of red in the darkness indicated that one of them must be Dante.

The room shook again and Trish skidded on the white plastic floor, knocked off her feet when the tremors continued. It felt like being on a boat in the middle of a story sea – not that she had ever experience such a thing, but she gathered it was similar from movies she had seen. She hauled herself up, eyes searching the room for Dante and the stranger she had seen moments before.

Then her hand hit something which made her recoil in disgust. Blood… lots of it covering her fingers and staining her pale skin a deep crimson. She choked, not because she was unused to the sight, the viscid feeling, far from it, but because in the faint light she could tell it was clearly human.

Her heart jumped into her throat as she heard shouting across the room, the words unrecognisable over the crackle of electricity in the centre of the room. She reached out again, hesitantly, felt soft hair beneath her fingertips… and more blood. She wanted to stop, but suddenly she was struck by the terrifying clarity that she _knew_ who it was even if she didn't want to.

"Alex," the harsh breath left her and she wanted to scream, but she pulled away instead, turned glittering eyes back to the pair across from her, the white lightning blinding her every couple of seconds.

"Trish!"

Dante saw the anguish in her eyes and felt his heart wrench in his chest. It was nearly enough to distract him from Vivienne, nearly, but he gritted his teeth and steadied his sword. The blast when the room shook had knocked him down as the circular platform below burst open into rays of white light. It blinded him for a second before he regained composure and when he did it was to see Vivienne, still eerily calm, leaning against the railing with wide eyes.

"It's a portal," she said clearly over the buzz of electricity and the howl of a supernatural wind which whipped her red hair violently around her face. She turned her head eyes wide and staring, filled with a surreal light. "To the demon world; I'll rule it."

"You'll die!" Dante growled over the storm, the void was slowly growing below them, the wind growing more violent. He was amazed neither of them had been struck by lightening.

"I have nothing to live for," she said her voice toneless though it still held that cultured air to it. She glanced down at the amulets entwined in her hand lost in the flickering red gem. "I have an army with me-"

"You mean the ones I wasted in the entrance hall?" Dante questioned with mock scorn. He didn't quite know what she was going to do and the look in her eyes was disconcerting. Maybe more importantly he didn't exactly know what to do about her. He didn't plan on letting her jump into hell, but he didn't know what he'd do with her if he saved her. "They won't last for two seconds in there."

She smiled, painted lips pulling into a practiced grin. "It'll be fun. I've spent my whole life cooped up here." She moved a little closer, covered his hand with hers on the railing despite the fact that he still had his sword ready to deliver a fatal blow. "You could come with me."

Dante yanked his hand back gritting his teeth. "You just killed my son."

She shook her head, eyes glittering. "Fine then," she said her tone clipped as she moved away, around the controls. Vivienne moved with ingrained elegance as she slipped the heeled shoes from her feet, placed her hands on the railing and pulled herself up.

It took Dante a moment to figure out what she was doing as the room shook again. Vivienne crouched to grasp the railing and waited for the tremors to finish then stepped onto the opposite side, staring into the pit of energy below her. Before Dante could move a bolt of lightning flashed from the opposite end of the room. Trish's outstretched fingers crackled with electricity as a blast left them, hitting the woman in the back sending her falling forwards.

Dante moved then and barely fast enough, dropping Rebellion to lean over the railing and catch Vivienne's hands. Instead he grasped the intertwined chains of the amulets between his fingers as Vivienne grasped the other end.

"What are you doing?" Vivienne yelled feet kicking against the air. The shock should have killed her, but she had already displayed super-human qualities so Dante wasn't all that surprised by her resilience.

"Saving you, what does it look like?" Dante grunted hauling her upwards praying that the chains would hold out. Vergil had broken his pretty easily when they fought on Temin-Ni-Gru so he doubted it would last long. "Give me your hand."

"No," she whispered fingers slipping, she couldn't quite remember why she was holding on, but sudden fear was shocking down her spine. He saw it in her eyes, then they softened until only a bizarre calmness resided in the dark depths of her pupils. "I don't want to be saved."

"Vivienne!" Dante yelled, reached down, but she had let go and was falling too fast for him to reach her. She smiled again, her visage never once breaking even when she was falling to her awaiting death. And then she was gone swallowed up by the light and before Dante could even think to go after her the portal closed. The lights receded like water swirling down a plug hole and left only broken lights and scorched walls.

Dante pulled back eventually, blinking spots from his eyes as he turned to see Trish standing by the controls. He opened his mouth then shut it again unable to think of anything to say, not knowing what he _wanted_ to say. He didn't need to when Trish turned on her heel and walked back across the room to where Alex's body still lay on the white tiled floor. Dante pocketed the amulets then called Rebellion running to catch up with her until he caught her arm. She resisted him when he tried to turn her to face him.

"You killed her," it was a statement, not a question, his tone harder than he intended as he tried read her expression. "I could have saved her."

"She," Trish hissed finally turning her head, though not enough to look at him; just enough for him to see a tear trailing the shallow curve of her cheek. Trish swallowed hard before continuing lips trembling though she didn't know whether it was from sadness or rage. "_She_ murdered our son," finally she looked at him, eyes glittering and filled with accusation. "A-and you wanted to save her…?"

"She was confused," Dante tried to explain guilt settling in his gut. He had wanted to tell Trish about this in a different way, not for her to find out for herself. It was his fault their son was dead.

"She was insane," Trish spat back. She tried to pull her arm free, but he didn't budge. "Let go of me."

"I didn't-"

"Let go of me!" Her arm flared with electricity and Dante yanked his hand back reflexively as the shock hit his fingertips. She made her way over to the boy with short, brisk strides; Dante followed her not knowing what to say.

Trish knelt down next to Alex's lifeless form; bit her lip as she stroked the hair from his face. Dante saw her open her mouth, but no sound came out and she closed it again moving gently to pick the boy up.

"Let me-"

"I want to carry him," Trish cut him off her voice shook with the threat of tears. She scooped the boy up with ease and cradling him in her arms, her head pressed against his own cold one.

Dante watched helplessly as she made her way to the door, eyes scanning the room briefly for his guns before he left, he didn't really care anymore. Suddenly there were things which were so much more important…

* * *

Lady had quite honestly had enough demons in her life and she was getting sick of them. She had forgotten how frustrating it could be when you were out of practice, when she knew somewhere inside that she could do so much better than this. As it was she was surprised she hadn't been killed by now. Still there was a gash across her left arm which was slowly rendering her trigger finger useless and the girl she was supposed to be looking after was no where in sight.

The darkness in the passageway made the fight even harder, these creatures obviously had no problem seeing in the dark, Lady on the other hand had to make sure all her senses were on red alert in order to stay focused.

"Evey!" She yelled into the darkness and was greeted by her own echo bouncing back at her down the corridor. _Great_. She slipped onto her knee when a claw swung at her head then dragged her leg round, booted foot connecting solidly with a creature's legs, sending it sprawling.

Then her arm gave out. She crashed onto her side, firing blindly with her right hand in order to keep her attackers at bay. She scrabbled backwards, struck out with her feet and then the earth was tilting backwards and it took her a moment to realize that she was falling. Lady yelled, nearly loosing her gun in an attempt to find a hand hold and feeling only smooth marble beneath her fingertips. The drop felt further than it was, if it was too far then she would be dead, she reasoned when she hit the floor and stared blankly up at the ceiling which, only moments ago had been the floor. She heard a grating sound and then the hole closed up completely leaving her laying there dazed and disorientated.

"Lady."

Lady sat up, swore under her breath and swiped at the hair in her eyes with her uninjured hand. "What the hell just happened?" She turned to the girl standing next to her then pulled herself to her feet. "And where are we…?"

Evey shrugged eyes wide. Her attention had already turned back to the room they had landed in. It was lit by a dim green glow, which gave the room a ten on the creepy laboratory scale. Computers were whirring somewhere in the background and the floor was lined with steel tubes of cabling. The room was lined with containers, pods, things you saw in sci-fi movies, all empty save for one in the centre of the room which, rather than standing up straight, lay on its side like a coffin. The eerie light was emanating solely from the centre of the room and whilst Lady knew they needed to get out of here her interest was piqued.

She found her gun on the floor next to her, steadied herself and aimed the gun at the cylinder walking slowly towards it. Evey was following behind her; she knew she should tell the girl to stay back in case it was something gruesome, but like she'd listen anyway. When they finally neared the cylinder enough to peer inside both drew in a gasp.

Evey's eyes grew impossibly larger. "Dad?"

But Lady was shaking her head, brow furrowed. "That's not your father."

She aimed the gun at the head of the figure laying serenely in the cylinder. No, it wasn't Dante even after all these years she _knew_ it wasn't him.

"It's a clone…" _A clone of a clone how ironic was that?_ She shook her head, lowered her gun and took Evey's hand. "We have to leave."

"But-"

"No buts, we need to go right now," Lady yanked on the girl's arm and took off across the room towards the exit, praying that it wasn't locked. She couldn't fight him, she hadn't even stood a chance in Temin-Ni-Gru, there was something seriously messed up going on here and she didn't want to stay and find out.

She moved to the door, tried the handle, locked; typical. Moving Evey aside, as gently as she could despite her hurry, she aimed and fired once, twice, three times at the bolt until the door clicked open. She heard the whole room power down and realized that there was just that little bit more than locks and keys keeping the doors closed. Taking the girl's hand once again she left the room hearing a hiss behind her and not having the courage to look round. She didn't know what other systems she'd short circuited and she didn't want to find out. Lady wasn't prone to any form of cowardice, but she knew the futility or starting a fight you couldn't win. She was also not planning on endangering Evey any further than she already had done.

They carried on walking hurriedly through white hallways until Lady eventually realised they were lost. Not that they hadn't been to begin with, but this was a different kind of lost. A horrible confusion in a strange maze where everything looked the same. Every door she opened seemed to lead to another white corridor. It was hurting her head and soon the claustrophobia began to set in. Evey seemed to sense her panic as she was dragged down corridor after corridor until she finally stopped.

Lady turned back to her. "What?"

"We're lost," it was a simple reply and for some reason it infuriated Lady, maybe because she didn't want to admit it to herself.

"We're not lost," Lady said firmly, mostly to convince herself rather than the girl. "It's just…"

Evey raised an eyebrow and folded her arms; Lady sighed and slumped against a wall. "Okay so maybe we're lost. I've been in worse situations; we'll find our way out eventually." She glanced down at her injured arm. The sleeve of her jacket was soaking up most of the blood, but it needed proper attention. Her fingers were going numb. Lady rolled up her sleeve and rubbed the index finger of her other hand into the blood around the wound. She ignored the irritation of the movement and swiped her fingers across the pristine white wall. Then she rolled her sleeve back down, pressed it against the wound with her free hand and grunted as she hauled herself up off the wall.

The girl was watching her with a curious expression then glanced to the blood. "Don't you need to see to that?"

"When we're out of here," Lady said firmly. She knew her limits and she'd been in far worse shape before. Besides she didn't have much else she could do at the moment unless they stumbled upon some medical supplies somewhere. Even then she didn't want to stay down here a second more than she had to.

They had barely reached the end of the corridor when the whole building shook. Lady slammed into the opposite wall and braced herself as more tremors shook the room. Evey had been knocked off her feet and pulled herself back up quickly pressed against the opposite wall. There was a loud roaring sound somewhere in the distance, like thunder, a storm… underground?

"I bet this has something to do with your dad," Lady said once the ground stopped shaking and she could stand without fear of falling over.

Evey smiled, but her face was strained with worry. Lady gave her a sympathetic look and turned back to the task at hand. They needed to find a way out of here… she turned left down the corridor taking the time to mark another swipe of blood on the wall before continuing on. They would get out of here eventually, hopefully before the place decided to blow up.

The room at the end of this corridor was one of the few with black walls. The person who designed this place appeared to be colour blind. It was smaller than the place she'd landed before, but similar, the familiar buzz of electricity filled the air. She took a step forwards and glass crunched beneath her feet. A broken computer monitor lay in the far corner of the room. It looked like there'd been a fight in here though there was no blood.

"Those are dad's!" Evey shouted, darting across the room to grab the pair of hand guns rested on a counter on the opposite side of the room. Lady had been too busy checking for possible hazards to even notice the familiar weapons. Evey lifted Ebony and Ivory easily in her hands. Lady was slightly surprised by the girl's strength, but she shouldn't have been. She probably shouldn't let the girl look after them, but with an injured arm she knew she couldn't carry them anyway.

"The safety's off right?" She asked hurrying over to make sure Evey didn't injure one of them. It was anyway.

"Why are they here?" The girl asked worriedly. She didn't have to voice her thoughts for Lady to know what the girl was thinking. Dante wouldn't leave his guns lying around like this so they'd been taken off him, which meant that someone had over-powered him for long enough to get them. That worried Lady a little more than she would have liked to admit. She knew that he'd be fine though, Dante was always fine.

"Come on we have to go," Lady took Evey's wrist and began to turn, then stopped half way to the door. There was a silhouette in the doorway, highlighted by the light from the room beyond. Lady pushed the girl behind her slowly and drew a gun, wincing slightly as she jostled her injured arm in the process.

Glass crunched beneath the figure's feet as it moved through the shadows, slipping into the darkened room until Lady could make out the face from the way the light reflected onto it. Catching pale strands of hair, hollowed cheeks, bright blue eyes.

"Dad!"

Lady reached out to grab Evey by the scruff of the neck with her injured arm. The movement was made before she could think and her fingers curled on thin air, her eyes screwed tight shut in pain. Her quiet gasp was enough to stop Evey and she had the time to move forwards and push the girl behind her.

"It's not your father," Lady hissed pointing her gun at the man's head. He was still advancing towards her and at the moment without a weapon. Lady wasn't one for dishonourable conduct, but she didn't have the time for this. She squeezed the trigger and a gunshot echoed.

Evey yelled in shock and clamped her hands over her ears. She watched with wide eyes as the man faltered, stumbled, then finally collapsed. "You shot him!"

"Yeah," Lady breathed watching the body unconvinced that he was dead. When there was no movement she shoved Evey in front of her. "Go."

It was an order and the girl was too confused to resist as she bit her lip and stepped over the body heading for the door. Her father's guns were clutched in her hands and she found the weight comforting as she held tightly to the textured grips. Lady followed quickly after the girl her feet barely touching the floor as she moved over the body. She wanted to get out of here _now._

Then her foot was yanked out from under her and she was flipped upside down. There was a sickening crack as her skull connected solidly with the tiled floor then she went still.

Evey let out a frightened gasp then raised the guns in her shaking hands trying to keep her eyes fixed on the figure slowly climbing to its feet. It was hard when Lady was laying sprawled out in front of her. She wanted to check that Lady was alright, but she needed to concentrate. She'd never held a gun before, never been taught how to fire one – she didn't even know if she wanted to.

Then the figure turned to her and she swallowed hard. The likeness to her father was uncanny, but Lady had told her it wasn't Dante and she had to believe that now. She aimed between the man's dead eyes and squeezed the trigger. Both shots missed, they slammed into the wall behind the clone's head. The girl's hands shook, she backed up a step and her back connected with something solid.

She sucked in a breath, then hands closed over hers, pried the guns easily from her grip. She knew it was her father without having to look up. A sudden sense of relief washed over her and made her light-headed. She hadn't realised how tired she was until her mind could finally switch off. Even with the clone still heading towards them she knew she'd be fine.

Two shots cut the air, this time they met their target with ease and sent the man backwards, another round followed and Evey closed her eyes as blood splattered across the floor. There was a hissing sound and then the passageway fell into silence.

"Thanks for finding these for me," Dante said softly holstering the guns as Evey turned around and wrapped her arms around his waist. Dante rested his hand on the girl's shoulder, looked down to where Lady lay sprawled on the tiled floor. "Why are you here?" His voice was tired, strained; he couldn't quite force happiness into it, not even to convince her everything was going to be alright.

"I'm sorry," the girl said softly feeling all the adrenalin draining out of her. "I was stupid, it was my fault."

"It's not your fault," Dante sighed, stroked some of the hair from the girl's face. "Let me see to Lady okay then we'll get out of here?"

Evey nodded and moved aside to let Dante get a better look at her. By the time he knelt down next to her she was already coming round. When he reached out to touch her shoulder she flipped onto her back gun raised and aimed at his temple.

Dante raised his hands in a half hearted surrender. "I always said you were fast."

Lady narrowed her eyes then lowered the gun, pulling herself into a sitting position and hissing as the movement put strain on her injured arm – and made her head spin. Dante grasped her shoulders to steady her and she batted his hands away irritably.

"I can handle it."

"But you can't handle a thirteen year old I take it?" Dante asked with a slight quirk to the edges of his lips.

Lady put a hand to her aching forehead and closed her eyes. "Yeah about that, I'm really sorry."

"Doesn't matter," Dante shook his head and offered her a hand up. For once she didn't refuse his help.

"Where's mom?" Evey asked finally seeing that everything was taken care of.

"She's down the corridor, but-Evey wait!"

The girl had already broken into a run and Dante could only watch in despair – worried that if he left Lady alone she'd fall over. She must have had a concussion at least. There was a purpled bruise quickly growing around her temple.

Then there was something between a sob and a scream which made his heart seize in his chest. Lady turned questioning eyes on him and Dante looked down at the floor.

"Dante, what…?"

The man shook his head numbly. "Come on."

"You go, I'll catch up," Lady offered knowing that whatever was happening was something private.

Dante nodded, feeling selfish as he left Lady with the wall as a crutch, hurrying down the hall. Evey had collapsed just around the corner; the girl was shaking with silent sobs as Trish tried to calm her down. Alex's body lay rested against the wall; he would have looked like he was sleeping if not for the masses of blood. It made Dante feel sick and he turned away watching Trish's vain attempts to comfort the girl. He had wanted to tell her in a better way. He hadn't expected to find the pair of them here, it was too much of a shock for her.

Lady rounded the corner and a gasp slipped from her lips as Dante stood knowing that they needed to get out of here more than anything right now.

"Oh god," Lady whispered a hand raised to her mouth. She couldn't think of anything to say. She didn't know the pain they were going through right now and hoped she never would. She'd killed her own father, seen her mother murdered, but none of that made up for the death of your own child. It wasn't fair on Dante either, all the times he'd lost someone close to him you'd have thought for once fate would be kind.

When Dante moved to lift Alex up Trish stopped him, hauling the boy into her arms and nodding towards Evey. Dante didn't want to argue over who should carry who and made his way back over to his daughter lifting her into his arms.

"You said… it'd be alright…" the girl sniffed into his chest and Dante had to force himself to keep on moving, because suddenly it was all becoming so much harder.

"I know Evey, I'm sorry," he whispered hugging her closer and letting her cling to him tightly hoping she'd fall asleep soon and get some much needed rest. He kept his pace slow so that Lady could keep up and followed Trish as she lead the way out of the place.

Thankfully the elevator still decided to work despite the various damages it had taken in the past couple of hours. By the time they stepped out into the cool dawn air Evey was asleep and the first pink fingers of a blood red dawn were sliding across the horizon.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for not updating for ages and also sorry for updating so badly. I'm sorry to say it, but my inspiration for this fic has diminished somewhat. Anyway I think there'll be one more chapter after this and then that'll be it and I can start on something refreshing and new. I really did not mean for this thing to take over half a year to write._

_Well thanks for all the reviews, they make me happy :)_

_-Luce_


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